America The Dead Survivors Stories (Vol. 1)

by Sweet, W. G.

  Beth piled the dry wood next to a large stone fireplace, and Billy carefully arranged some wood inside the fireplace, over some smaller twigs and crumpled pieces of paper, while Beth opened the rear of the truck and pulled out the sleeping bags, as well as some metal camp utensils they had picked up earlier when they had passed through a small town. They debated on leaving the tent, but decided to set it up instead, close to the fireplace. The buildings were dark and deserted-looking, and not the least bit inviting to either of them. The tent would not offer anywhere near as much protection as the empty buildings, but to them it was much more appealing.

  Once Billy got the fire going he began to set up the tent as Beth started dinner.

  “What are you making?” Billy asked, as he walked back to the fireplace.

  A large steel pot sat directly over the metal grating of the outdoor fireplace, and the aroma from it was all he could smell as he finished setting up the tent. His stomach was growling.

  “Well,” she asked, “how does it smell?”

  “Pretty damn good,” Billy replied, “in fact about the best thing I've smelled in a long time. I mean I lived alone, strictly fast food. Burgers, tacos, you know. What is it?” he asked again.

  “Well, it's nothing great, beans and corned beef,” she looked at him and shrugged her shoulders as if to say, who knows? “Smells good though, huh?”

  Billy nodded his head in agreement, and said aloud. “It's got fast food beat, that's for sure... It's going to be a few minutes, right?” Billy asked.

  “Probably more like an hour,” she replied, “That's why I've got it off the heat, simmering. Why?”

  “Well,” Billy said, “that lake looks pretty good. I'm thinking seriously about jumping in it and washing some of this road grime off.”

  Before he could say more Beth jumped up and said, “Race ya!” Billy stood dumb founded as she raced away towards the lake.

  He caught up with her next to the water, slightly out of breath, and laughing. When she started to remove her clothes, he nearly choked on the laughter though. Beth seemed not to notice, and after she had stripped down to her bra and panties she dove gracefully into the water and swam out into the lake, toward a wooden raft that was anchored about fifty feet off shore.

  Billy got over his initial shock, stripped down to his briefs, and also dove into the water. The coldness of the water shocked him, but it helped in a way to. He hadn't realized just how beautiful she was, and his body had begun unconsciously to respond. The cold water ended that though, and he turned over on his back and floated as he kicked with his feet towards the raft. When he turned back over as he sensed he was nearing the raft he saw her sitting, looking back at him as he swam towards her. She smiled, and he couldn't help but smile back. Cold water or not, he thought, she is a beautiful woman.

  He had guessed she must be in her late thirties when he had met her, but now he thought he might be wrong. Maybe it had been the dingy apartment building, which had contributed to his observation. Whatever it had been, he was pretty sure he was wrong. She looked like maybe she was only in her late twenties, maybe, he thought, only a few years older than I am. It was more the way she looked now, he realized, that made him think she was probably a lot younger than he had initially thought.

  In the apartment building, she had been wary and tired-looking. She seemed more alive to him now though, and the smile went a long way towards smoothing out the lines that had seemed to be embedded in her forehead. He supposed that to her he must seem awful young at twenty-two, maybe even immature. The few women he had gone out with in Watertown had been much younger than himself, girls really. He had been in a common law marriage in Mexico that ended badly, and that was his extent of knowledge when it came to women.

  Beth sat on the wooden surface of the small raft and watched Billy turn back over on his back, as he continued to float towards the raft.

  She had liked Billy almost from the first, when he had convinced her to open the door it had been a big deal to her. It was something she would normally never do at all, under any circumstances. Nevertheless, she had let him in. He seemed honest, she told herself, and reminded her of herself. She had started life honest anyway, it was just that she couldn't be as honest as she wanted too, she reminded herself. Life was just that way, she decided.

  Billy was different. She knew it was stupid, here she was entertaining what she had told him to forget, but even as the thought entered her head she knew it wouldn't work. It was comfort she needed. It was sexual attraction. He didn't move her inside like she wanted to be moved. She wondered if she could be moved that way by any man and the thought caused her smile to slip away.

  The meal was excellent. Billy's mind was not entirely impaled upon the world and what it had become. He thought they both just wanted to be part of the whole again.

  He realized, on an unconscious level, that it was even more than that. He wanted some sort of security again. Some kind of normalcy, same old, same old, he thought. The thought made him laugh.

  “What?” Beth asked.

  “Well first, this is so good. And second I was thinking that as much as I used to hate the same old, same old of the world, I find myself wishing I had it back again. Ironic, I know.”

  Beth nodded. She felt the same way. In a world that was constantly cruel to her, she had held out hope that it would not always be that way that somehow, someday, it would all change for her. And it had, and for her this was even better than she had dreamed. She didn't have to pretend about her past, it didn't matter anymore. She didn't have to be anything, or anyone, other than who she had always wanted to be, herself, the woman that she had buried deep within her. She was happier than she could ever recall being in her entire life. It was as if she had been blind, and now through some unimaginable miracle could see. It was so much and so many feelings that it threatened to overwhelm her.

  Billy spoke as they finished eating. He had been thinking non-stop about everything that had happened, in just the last few days, and he was no longer certain he wanted to risk traveling on.

  “Beth?” he began, not quite sure how to proceed with what he had been thinking. “Do you want to go? I mean, do you want to go all the way across this country? It's just that, well, I'm not as positive as I was that it has to be done, or that we should.”

  She thought for only a brief second before she answered him.

  “I think that we have to, Billy. It's not a question of whether we should. We have to,” she paused. “I know it may be dangerous, and I suppose it could mean that we may even die, but to me it would be worthwhile. To me it would be, because I am not the woman for you... And she is out there.” Beth locked her eyes on Billy's as she finished speaking, waiting for him to respond.

  Billy thought over what she had said. It was not really a decisive thinking though, as he knew she was right. It was more of an acceptance of a decision he had already made, and not really wavered from. He nodded.

  “I've changed a lot of that thinking,” Billy told her. “I really have. I don't always pay attention, but I did when it came to you. I don't think I've ever had a friend like you. I don't want to lose that. And I thought... Well, I thought there must be a woman out there like you... Not one I would compare to you, I mean one that gets inside of me and hooks me the way you did, but where it works. I'm explaining it badly, I guess.” Billy said.

  “No... No you're not. I know exactly what you mean. How about some tea?” she asked.

  “Tea?” he looked puzzled. “Where did you get tea from?”

  She held up a small package, and said, “It was in the camping gear, a free sample package. Want some?”

  “Sure,” he said, as he smiled at her, “it sounds good, actually.”

  While Beth made the tea, Billy took the small tin cups, along with the plastic bowls that had also been in the camping kit, and walked down to the water to wash them. The moon had begun to rise and a silver trail spread across the lake, seemingly alive as it rode the small r
ipples of the water. When he finished, he stared off across the shimmering surface. It was calm and peaceful, and he listened as somewhere in the distance an owl hooted its greeting into the night. He walked back to the fire feeling good. The night was dark, but it held no fear for him. Beth looked up and smiled.

  “Billy, where do you want to be when this is over? I mean to live?” Billy thought for a second and considered before he responded.

  “I guess it would depend,” he said. “I don't think I would want to live in a city though. I like it here... It's peaceful. I guess some place like this. Mountains, but this is a type of mountains I've never seen. I mean mountains like you would see in New York... Pines, Maples.”

  Beth lay on her back, staring up into the diamond studded sky. She rolled over and propped herself up on one elbow next to him as she spoke.

  “This place, it used to be a state park, but now it's just a nice lake. Nobody owns it anymore. It would be a good place to be... Away from the city... Build a little community here... There are thousands of places like this now... All over the country. I would like a place like this.” Beth said quietly. She removed the pot from the fire, setting it to one side so it would be there in the morning when they awoke. They crawled into the tent and were asleep within minutes.

  The silvery moonlight shown down as they slept, the nearly full circle slowly traveling across the darkened sky.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Billy and Beth

  March 29th

  They awoke early to the chatter of squirrel-talk in the trees. Gray squirrels playfully leaping through the pine branches and running up and down the thick trunks, scolding as they went.

  Beth set the water to boil, once she had rekindled the fire from the still glowing coals, as Billy broke camp and quickly loaded the truck. They ate a small breakfast of the leftovers of the meal from the night before, and sipped the hot tea as the sun began to slowly peek over the tops of the trees across the lake. After they rinsed the utensils in the lake, and doused the fire, they climbed into the truck and drove slowly back to the main road. They both felt an urgency to be under way, and once they regained the main road Billy pointed the truck north.

  The going was slow, but the farther they traveled the less traffic there seemed to be, and, Billy discovered, if they stayed on the shoulder they could make pretty good time.

  Towards mid-morning they turned off onto state Route 260, and began to angle towards the New Mexico border. The going was much easier and they found that they could keep to the pavement, most of the time, which allowed them to make even better time.

  Late afternoon found them in the small city of Springerville just inside the Arizona border, and Billy drove the truck into the parking lot of a large shopping mall on the outskirts.

  The mall served as an anchor for several large department stores, and a large grocery chain. There were several other specialty shops scattered throughout the mall. They stocked up on canned goods, as well as several packages of freeze dried meats from a sporting goods store in the mall. Beth wandered across the empty mall to a clothing store, and Billy walked off towards a small shop he had spotted as she picked out some clothing for both of them. By the time they had finished it was late in the afternoon. They left the small city behind, and continued into New Mexico on I60. Just before nightfall they reached the Cibola National Forest and Billy pulled the truck off onto one of the dirt roads of the park and found a place to park among the trees. He unloaded the truck and set up camp, as Beth made dinner. She experimented with canned meat along with some freeze dried food, and the result was a tasty stew-like dish.

  “Where did you learn to cook, Beth?” he asked, “this is really good.”

  “Oh it's just a little something I threw together,” she joked, as she blew lightly on her finger-tips.

  “All I ever ate when I was by myself was fast food,” Billy said, “and it all sort of tasted like cardboard after a while. I can't believe you made this out of that stuff we picked up today.”

  “Well,” she said, “I did throw in some canned meat. If you think this is good, just wait until I have some decent stuff to cook with.” Billy bugged his eyes out comically at her, and said, “You mean this isn't the good stuff?”

  “Not even,” she joked back. They sipped at cups of hot tea as the fire crackled invitingly in front of them.

  They were at the edge of the San Mateo Mountain range, and it was somewhat cooler at the higher elevation. They had both remarked though, on how much warmer it was than it should have been. Beth more so than Billy.

  Billy and Beth

  San Mateo Mountain range

  March 30th - April 8th

  In the morning they broke camp before the sun was even up and headed out into the chill pre-morning air.

  They both enjoyed the scenery as they drove along, and verbally promised that they would take their time when they returned, and stop as often as they wanted to, to look at the scenic mountains.

  They both knew it was possible that they might never return. That they could die in the north when they reached whatever destiny awaited them there, but they chose not to dwell on it, as they found it only saddened them.

  As they traveled, they encountered less and less stalled traffic, until the road before them opened up, totally deserted for miles at a stretch. Mid-morning brought them to the Oklahoma border, and if they had not had to slow down and find an alternate route around the City of Clayton, they probably would have entered Oklahoma by nightfall.

  The stalled traffic had returned several miles outside the city, but once they were within two miles of the city limits, it had become impassable. Even the breakdown lanes were packed full, and the traffic had forced them into the fields that flanked the highway to find a way around. Once past Clayton however, the stalled traffic had once again given way and they spent the night camped beside the highway less than twenty miles from the Oklahoma border.

  Noon of the following day brought them to the outskirts of Woodward and more stalled traffic. After taking several shortcuts across open fields, they eventually came upon route 412, which, Billy found by checking the map; they could follow most of the way across the country.

  They spent that night by a quiet lake that reminded them of the one back in Arizona. They were just outside the small town of Cleo Springs Oklahoma. They were both becoming used to the traveling, and had each developed a routine they followed every night when they stopped. They had twice seen smoke off in the distance that day, as if to the east of them some great fire were burning. They had correctly guessed the reason long before they reached the fire. Someone, or something, had set the entire city to flame.

  ~

  For several miles before they reached and successfully passed around and beyond the city of Enid Oklahoma, black oily smoke had hung over them in the sky. They had been forced to detour more than twenty miles to the south, running through the fields to get around the still burning city. Even from that distance they could feel the heat, and occasionally see the flames leaping into the sky.

  When they stopped that evening at a small lake just off 412, the glow of the fire was still visible in the distance behind them. They were both tired and dropped off to sleep before the last vibrant colors of dusk had fully faded from the sky.

  The next day they traveled steadily onward toward the distant mountains. The going was slower and they had to stop several times to move stalled vehicles out of the roadway, or take other routes that were less traveled. They kept on a roughly north east direction, rising only slightly up through the states.

  They had finally been stopped by the wreckage of three cars that had collided on the Quachita river bridge on 270. The collision had taken out the concrete and the guard rail on one side of the bridge. There had been a fire after the wreck. And the heat must have been tremendous. Two of the cars were wrapped around the steel guard rail that had either broken on impact or in the fire after that had shattered the remaining concrete that was still connected to
it. Billy managed to winch one of the cars out of the way, and together they had pushed the other two off the bridge and into the river.

  They had both watched as the cars flipped end for end, and finally landed half in the river and half on a small island that split the river. At the expense of a small amount of paint, which was scraped from the truck as they passed the one remaining vehicle, they managed to get into the Quachita National Forest preserve before nightfall.

  Two additional days of travel brought them just into the Alabama border and the small community of Ardmore. They found a logging road just off 31. After Billy had set up the tent in a clearing back into the woods, he walked back over to take a closer look at the truck while Beth started dinner.

  Beth had surprised him earlier in the day when they had stopped by the side of the road to rest. A large buck had wandered out of the trees to their left and stood staring at them in the roadway. She had used the Remington, and carefully sighting, had brought the large animal down. Between them they had managed to dress it out, and had filled a large plastic cooler in the back of the truck with the venison. The smell of fresh steaks sizzling on the fire made the delay worthwhile.

  The trip across the country had been tough on them, but it had been much harder on the truck, Billy saw now, as he looked it over.

  Most of the damage was superficial, long scrapes down both sides of the truck, a small dent here and there. The big problem however was mechanical.

  The brakes were borderline, soft and spongy, probably due to the rough terrain they had traversed. Billy had had to constantly ride the brakes as they went down steep inclines to get around the road when it was hopelessly blocked. The other problem was the motor. It had developed a constant rattle deep within the block, every time it climbed even a small grade. He supposed most of it was due to the fact that they had been forced to use whatever gas they could find, and several times that had been low grade unleaded. That and the fact that the fuel injection system had not been set up for high altitude, it had been a desert truck up until it's liberation from the garage in Arizona. The truck was running better than twelve hours at a stretch, most days, and almost all of that was labored driving. As a result the truck had also developed several small oil leaks.