by E A Lake
Violet stroked her hair, hugging her tightly. “It will only be a few days,” she soothed lovingly. “We’ll be back before you know it. And you like Grandma Lettie. You’ll have a good time there.”
“Mr. Wilson scares me,” Libby countered. “Please take me with you.”
I’d had enough. The whining had been going on for close to an hour. “Libby, you’re not coming,” I snapped. “You need to stay with the Wilson’s and take care of Hope. We’re counting on you.”
More tears, followed by a howling shriek, and Libby dashed off into her bedroom and slammed the door behind her. I stared at Violet; she pressed her palm against her forehead. Libby screamed some more and the baby woke.
This wasn’t going according to plan.
Walking to Wilson’s place should’ve been easy. Violet placed Hope in some sort of cloth contraption she strapped over one shoulder and around her mid-section. Carrying the child nice and tight, the little one slept most of the way.
Libby, of course, proved to be a little more difficult. She walked at first, even willingly. But within half a mile, she wanted to be carried. And that task fell on me.
None of us were what I would call hefty any longer, but within a quarter-mile, Libby felt like a bag of rocks on my hips. I had to set her down.
And then the kicking and screaming started. It got so bad, I couldn’t even drag her behind me by an arm. Finally, Violet agreed to carry the pack and Libby got her desired piggy-back ride. At least one of us was happy.
By the time we got to Wilson’s front gate, evening had closed in. Violet said hello to her brother, the man on guard duty at the time of our arrival, and we went inside to discover another mess awaiting us.
Lettie.
“Well, if it ain’t the two dumbest people left on the face of this Earth,” Lettie crowed as we made our entrance. She gave Libby a peek on the top of her head and a half-hearted hug.
“Let me see that baby,” she said, helping Violet remove the carrier.
“Good to see you, Lettie,” I said, taking a scoop of water from the bucket on the hardwood kitchen counter. “I see you’re as happy as ever.”
She sat and played with the baby after giving Violet a hug. “Here’s proof that you’re all not stupid over there. Hope and Libby got more sense in each of their brains than you two got combined. What the devil you thinking? Running off looking for someone you ain’t gonna find. You’ll get yourself killed and then child raising will be left to me and Thaddeus.”
Violet and I took a spot on either side of the old woman.
“We’re just going to check around Covington and see who knows what, Lettie,” Violet answered in a patient manner. “We’ll be back in two days.”
Lettie huffed at Violet’s unperturbed reply. “People claim road thieves are thick up that way. You two won’t make it there and back and have any more left than the clothes on your back, if that.”
“We’re going Lettie, and that’s all there is to it,” I said ready to be done with the topic. “Now, what’s for supper?”
She looked between Hope and Violet, and slowly back to me. “Want to know what your last meal is, aye?” Her grin was as coy as her words.
Day 1,145
The morning sun rose to our right. I stood motionless in the center of the dirt road that led from Wilson’s place nearly into Covington. Staring ahead, I could make out two figures. Violet took my hand.
“Trouble?” she asked, without a hint of trepidation.
“Most likely,” I replied solemnly. I glanced at the 30-30 in her other hand. “You got a shell in the chamber?” She nodded. Good, we might need it, I thought solemnly.
“Maybe they’re just travelers, like us,” Violet offered. “Maybe they won’t be trouble at all.”
Maybe. Maybe not. They were headed our way, but at least they maintained the same pace as when I’d first spotted them.
“Let’s just keep moving,” I said, pulling her hand forward with me. “Maybe they won’t be any trouble at all.”
Famous last words.
“You gotta pay the toll,” the taller and uglier of the two called out a second time from 50 feet away. I’d heard him the first time. I just wanted to yank his chain a little to see if he rattled — and he hadn’t.
“I don’t think so,” I replied, not bothering to match his volume. “This is a public road last time I checked. Either let us pass, or we’ll just walk past you in the woods.”
That provoked laughter from the pair, revealing dirty brown-stained teeth, or lack thereof.
“That’s ours, too,” the shorter one replied. “All this land, you see, is ours. And if you want to head north, you gots to pay the toll. So open up your pack and hand all your crap over to us.”
That wasn’t going to happen. Not that they believed we weren’t an easy pair to prey on.
I pulled my 45 from behind my back to give him a good look. The taller one carried a shotgun; not much of a weapon from that range. The other had a large machete. We had them dead to rights, they just didn’t know it yet.
“She’s got a 30-30, fully loaded,” I stated in a calm voice. “I’ve got a 45, in case you were wondering. We’re going to fill you with holes if you don’t step aside. And if you don’t believe we will, just keep standing there looking stupid.”
They stood there, their heads turned from us to each other. And boy did they do stupid well.
I heard Violet cock the hammer on Lettie’s long gun. They heard it too, because the taller one inched his shotgun up.
I shook my head at the man; I had to give him bonus points for moxie. But it would have been stupid for him to even think about shooting. The gun lowered.
“Well, I can see there’s just no reasoning with people like you,” the tall one drawled. He motioned us past with a nod. “I suppose we can let this one slide. Next time, we’ll expect you to pay.”
I kept my gun on him as we walked around the pair. Once we were close enough, their lack of bathing habits burned my nostrils. Man, they stunk. This pair was ripe.
“Good God,” Violet spewed, covering her nose with her sleeve. “When was the last time either of you bathed?”
The pair looked at one another, seemingly offended. Leaning close, the tall one sniffed at the other.
“I don’t smell nothing,” he commented, grinning at Violet. “Maybe you come over and give us a sniff of that pretty hair of yours and we can compare odors.”
Thankfully, Violet kept pace with me. “Fat chance,” she said quietly. “I’d rather take my chances rolling around in raccoon scat. That would be better than getting any closer to either of you.”
We kept marching north, away from the pair. I didn’t take my gun off them until we were more than 50 yards in the clear.
“I’ll see if I can find some raccoon poop for you, sweetie,” the shorter one shouted with a laugh. “I’d pay good money to watch you scrub yourself clean.”
I noticed Violet roll her eyes as she shook her head. “I guess Lettie was right. All kinds out on the roads nowadays.”
I chuckled and focused on the road ahead, watching for any more trouble. How right they were, Violet and Lettie.
Day 1,145 - continued
We walked without saying much for a couple of hours. At least I assumed it was two hours. Without a watch, it was hard to tell. That, and time really didn’t matter anymore. You got up in the morning when you woke, you worked all day, stood guard until almost dawn, and slept until you woke again. Life was at the same time fairly simple and extremely difficult.
Jerking on my arm, Violet signaled for a stop. I stared ahead. Covington was no more than a mile or two away. And while I wanted to get there as soon as we could, I figured stopping to take a break for a few minutes wouldn’t hurt.
“I don’t know where all my stamina went,” Violet said, holding her sides. “I used to be able to run around town all day and night. Yesterday, that walk almost killed me. Left me with no energy.”
I handed h
er a cookie from that bundle Lettie had sent along. “We’re malnourished,” I replied, taking a bite of the sugarless treat. Funny how I’d lost my taste for anything extra sweet over the past four years.
Once upon a time, in my early twenties probably, I’d eat half a bag of some sort of chocolate cookies and wash it down with a half-gallon of milk. Those times were gone, long gone. I didn’t consume that many calories in an entire week now. As for milk, warm and fresh from the cow was the only way it came.
Another thought crossed my mind as I watched Violet catch her breath. “I wonder if we even have it in us to chase around the north shore. A year ago, no problem. But I felt it when I went after Barster. I just couldn’t keep going some days.”
She reached for my hand and squeezed it when I gave it to her. “It’s your call. But I want you to know that I’ll do whatever you want me to. Whatever it takes, I’ll be there for you.”
I gave her a soft smile and glanced at the deserted road behind us. Something had changed in Violet, something for the good. While I couldn’t quite figure out just what it was, I liked her new attitude. And I certainly appreciated her help.
Then again, who else did I have to turn to? The option of living alone was off the table. If that became my reality, I’d have to end my life somehow. The thought of being by myself, in the middle of nowhere, with no one to talk to or share a meal with or even just sit quietly together with drove me insane.
“I’m ready,” Violet said, rising from her spot. She brushed the little bits of earth off the back of her baggy jeans and caught me staring at her legs.
“Do I have something on my pants?” she asked. Spinning in circles, she checked her pants for something that wasn’t there.
“No,” I replied. “I was just wondering when those pants became so baggy, that’s all.”
She shrugged, walking forward with me. “I’ve had them since the beginning. They were actually a little tight that first year. I couldn’t fit in them at all when I was pregnant. I found them in a pile in the back closet last spring. I think they still have another year left in them.”
They were held up with a thin black belt, an old one of mine. I’d put four holes in that belt over the last few years for her; each one making it smaller and smaller. Now it looked like it needed a new hole.
Even having a baby, Violet had lost a lot of weight since the beginning of her life in No Where. Maybe as much as 20 or 25 pounds. The way I saw it, she didn’t have much more to give back.
The road worked its way west, then north, then west again. Covington should have been in sight, but we were on a route I’d never taken, so I was probably mistaken.
“Okay, here’s the plan.” I looked over to be sure Violet was still with me, body and mind. “I don’t expect either of the Weston’s or any of their groupies to be around, but someone should know where they were headed for. I mean, there isn’t more than 50 people left here I bet. So our task can’t be that hard.”
I heard Violet exhale; she was struggling again. “Maybe some of my friends or their parents will still be here. Since I was a local, they’ll trust me more than you. Probably.”
I took her hand. She really was beside me, and I was grateful. “Hopefully, we’ll know when they left and where they went within an hour. Maybe someone can give us a little food and water. Maybe even a place to rest. I’d like to be back on the way to Wilson’s by mid-afternoon.”
I saw her nod. “Yeah, I don’t want to run into that pair again in the dark.” She giggled for a moment. “Though they wouldn’t be hard to find, with that stench and all.”
Another dozen strides and I rose on my toes to spot the town. I stopped abruptly, checking the overhead sun. “Where the hell is that place?” I asked, becoming a little frustrated. “We should be there by now. Or at least, we should see the grain mill.”
Turning, I checked behind us. Nothing there either.
I looked up at the late morning sun. “That way is west,” I stated, pointing in front of Violet. “Covington should be right over there.” I jabbed my finger several times at the same spot.
Covering her eyes, Violet checked the sun as well. “Sounds about right,” she replied, sounding less sure than me. “Maybe we went past it. We’ve been walking a while.”
I felt my mouth and brow scrunch as I studied the road ahead. “Not possible. Wilson said we stay on the road in front of his place until we hit the blacktop. Then we turn left and Covington will be two miles dead ahead. We couldn’t have missed it.”
Violet strolled a few paces ahead and spun back. “Are you sure we turned left when we hit the blacktop? Maybe we turned right by accident. Or maybe we took a wrong road?”
I surveyed the area, feeling my anger rise. “How many roads are up here, Violet?” Maybe I spoke a little too tersely than the situation called for. It wasn’t her fault, though she was from the area.
She shrugged, not insulted by my tone. “More than you think, Bob. You want to backtrack or keep going?”
Yeah, those were our choices. Walk a mile or more back to where the blacktop met Wilson’s road or keep going in the potentially wrong direction. What a great frickin’ day, I scolded myself.
“Shit!” I shouted. “Shit, shit, shit! How the hell does shit like this happen to me, all the time? I run off to kill Barster and they come and steal Daisy. If I would have stayed, maybe we could have fought off the Weston’s, but then Barster would have shown up.”
I paced back and forth in front of Violet. She maintained her calm and watched me with folded arms.
“When I don’t think someone’s a threat, they shoot me. Every time I go after someone I don’t know, it turns out they’re decent folks.” I stopped in front of her, staring into her eyes. “How can one guy be so screwed up? Can you answer that for me? Can you, Violet?”
I was perhaps a little too close to her. I probably deserved a slap on the face or a shove back. Instead, she opened her arms and wrapped them around me, hugging tightly.
“You’re doing the best you can, and that’s all that matters,” she said in a calm voice. “Nothing is easy anymore. You know that. Just do the best you can. I don’t expect any more than that from you. And just for the record…” her eyes came to mine, “…I don’t think you’re screwed up at all. Not one bit.
“A coward wouldn’t be thinking of other people like you do. He wouldn’t even consider going after Daisy the way you have. He’d just sit back at the cabin and stew about it all. But you’re better than that, Bob. You’re trying. And that’s all anyone can ask.”
I felt my chest loosen, breaths came easier. She smiled at me.
“Now let’s go back to where Wilson’s road joined this one and make sure we’re headed the right way, okay?” She turned me around. She forced me to walk with her, even though I was already ready to give up. Violet was becoming my rock, my strength.
“Thanks,” I said with a slight amount of embarrassment. “I just got a little frustrated back there, that’s all. I wasn’t mad at you.”
Still holding my hand, she peeked at me. “I know. Everything’s okay. It’ll be fine.”
And for a fleeting moment, I too thought it would turn out alright.
Day 1,145 - continued
We retraced our steps, and within an hour stood at approximately the same spot I’d previously lost my cool. And we had the same results. I felt my cool slipping.
“Let’s just keep going,” Violet urged, pulling me along. “We don’t know this route. Maybe we’re a little off on our distance.”
Another corner and I began to smell something in the air, almost a sooty smell. I checked the ditches for a campfire or spot where something had been burned.
Another 50 yards and the smell became strong enough that we had to cover our noses with our arms. Whatever we were walking through, it was strong.
But we weren’t walking through it; we were walking towards it. Covington. At least what remained of the town.
Neither of us said a word
as we stared at the remnants of the burned out, once thriving town. Not so much as a bird made a sound. It was as if we had discovered hell on Earth and it had been abandoned.
I struggled forward, taking in the sights of burned down and charred buildings. The feed mill, or what remained, stood silently in the bright noonday light; the top half crumbled into the shell of what remained of the insides.
“No wonder I didn’t see it,” I dared to eek aloud. “It wasn’t there, at least not the part we could have seen from a mile away.”
Violet and I continued our somber crawl down the main street. On our right were the buildings Stuart Callies, and later his sister and her husband, used as a headquarters. Adjacent and across the street was the building that had been their armory. Now they were destroyed, crumbled into themselves.
“Accident?” Violet asked as we surveyed the surreal place where once as many as 500 people called home.
I gazed into the neighborhood that surrounded the main drag. “I don’t think so. All the houses are burned down, too. This must have taken them a while. But why?”
Violet continued ahead as if she sought out something important. “Disease, maybe?” Five paces and she halted, bringing her shaking hands to her face. She was looking down the side street that led to her former house.
I could only recognize Violet’s home by the last standing wall. It was on the south side; the one she’d thrown rocks at on our previous visit. And that was all that remained, if you didn’t include a pile of charred rubble.
Standing next to her, I checked for tears. None. Not that I expected any, but I didn’t know for sure. From what I knew, there weren’t many happy memories attached to the home.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered, walking through the blackened remains. There wasn’t much left to pick through. Anything she had cherished should have been grabbed our last time here.