Sheila had been resting quietly since the incident, not talking at all.
Only now she asked about Dan. “Is he gone?” she asked Nancy.
“Yes, sweetie, and he won’t be bothering you anymore.”
Sheila started to cry. “I know it’s hard,” said Joy, “but he didn’t treat you right.”
“No, it’s not that,” she replied. “Lonnie said this was a temporary thing, and if I can’t stay I’ll be all alone. Even staying with Dan is better than being alone.”
“Let me work on that,” said Lonnie’s wife.
Shredded venison sandwiches were on the menu. The gas generator on the trailer was powering two freezers, now filled to capacity.
“About time for a gasoline run,” I said out loud.
Crossing back over Highway 287, we unhooked Lonnie’s truck from the trailer.
“Lance and Jake, can you help me out?” asked Lonnie. “Mike, Jim, Steve and Vlad, you’re on security.”
“Hey, Vlad,” I called out. “Can you please…”
“Keep an eye on Mike?” he asked.
“Yes, that’s it,” I replied.
“No worries, new friend. I’ll do just that.”
Finding cars full of gas was the easy part. Even out here in the middle of nowhere, there was one every hundred yards. Every car was at least half full of gas, having just passed a larger town.
The siphon hoses made the work easy. Just fill up the gas cans, transfer to the vehicles and generators, and store the rest.
An hour and a half later, we had as much gas as we could carry. It was 2 p.m., and we were still 50 miles out from Lake Arrowhead.
“All right,” said Lonnie, addressing the group. “We have about 50 miles to get to the next stop.
“We can make in a couple of hours if all goes well, or stop here just off the road a bit for the night. All in favor of stopping, raise your hands.”
Only a few hands went up. “All in favor of heading forward to the lake?” Most hands raised, with a few hollers. “Okay, let’s move out.”
Off the main road, with open countryside, we were making good time.
“Finally, we’re moving,” said Jake. “Last time I commented on our speed, Vlad got messed up by that deer.”
The road ahead was easily navigated, with open country on both sides as far as we could see.
Vlad was smiling, with the wind in his hair.
“At this speed, we’ll be fishing soon, with maybe just a shot or two of vodka to ease the stress,” he called over the radio.
“Vlad, you’ve been the most upbeat patient I’ve ever had,” said Nancy.
“I’ll pour you the first shot, but only one for now. You’re still healing. Just as soon as we get to camp,” she radioed back.
The next two hours went by in a flash. I didn’t mind the break of smooth travel, knowing it was a luxury.
Lonnie slowed, and the caravan stopped nearly two hours later.
“According to the map, we have a bridge crossing the lake about five miles up ahead. We don’t have to cross there, but a detour is another two to three hours out of our way. I’m just not sure if it will be blocked.”
We agreed to try it. “We should be able to observe it from a ways out with binoculars,” added Jake.
I handed him mine.
“Take a look. Is that what I think it is?” asked Jake.
Military trucks were blocking the entrance to the bridge, and there appeared to be 50 or more soldiers milling around on the bridge.
“Let me take a look,” said Lonnie.
“What are they guarding? The bridge only covers a small part of the lake… There’s a broad line of people headed down from the north, most likely from Wichita Falls, and it looks like they are being interviewed before being allowed to cross the bridge.”
“Womp Womp…Womp Womp…”
The adults were all so focused on the bridge that no one saw the Blackhawk helicopters approaching from the east.
I turned around and saw most of the children pointing up to the sky. I looked up to see them both fly overhead fast.
“Keep going, boys. That’s it. Just keep going,” said Vlad aloud.
Just before reaching the bridge, one flanked left and the other right in a large circle. They met side-by-side, hovering over our caravan at no more than 300 feet.
“This situation is not good,” said Jake.
“Get ready for a fight, boys,” said Mike, smiling.
“No, no, no!” yelled Lonnie, over the noise of the turning blades. “Everyone stands down. This is a fight we won’t win.”
“Drop your weapons,” came the voice over a loudspeaker from one of the helicopters.
Each of us holding rifles laid them on the trailer next to us. Thankfully, Mike did the same.
“This is the United States Army.” With one helicopter still hovering, the other came down slowly, landing no more than 50 yards from our trailer.
I counted eight men exiting in full combat gear, rifles at the ready.
“Cool and calm, boys,” said Lonnie. “We haven’t done anything wrong that I know of.”
“Who’s in charge here?” barked the first soldier to reach the trailer.
“I guess we all are,” replied Lonnie.
“I’m officer Sanchez, McKinney Police Department,” he said, reaching out his hand.
“Let’s see some ID from all of you,” the soldier replied, without shaking Lonnie’s hand.
“Sir,” said Jake, “I’m former Army Ranger retired, and we all have IDs, but we’ll have to dig for them. I haven’t carried my wallet in a while,” he said with a smile.
The soldier, not smiling back, replied, “Okay, we can do that. You two first,” he said, pointing at Jake and Lonnie.
“That’s good,” I whispered to Vlad. “I think they’re trying to establish credibility.”
“We can do that, sir,” replied Lonnie. “We have a fair number of women and children with us,” he added, “so can we take this nice and slow?”
“IDs,” replied the soldier.
Jakes ID was in the vehicle with Nancy and Joy and all our boys. They had the windows up and didn’t hear everything that was said.
“What’s going on?” asked Nancy, in a worried voice.
“I’m not sure yet, honey,” he replied. “Stay down and be as quiet as possible. No sudden moves in here,” he added, as he emerged with his wallet.
He and Lonnie made it back to the soldier about the same time, handing over their credentials.
“Any other military or police here?”
Jake motioned to Nancy to come out of the vehicle. “Former National Guard,” said Jake, as she exited the vehicle.
“Sir,” asked Lonnie, “with all due respect, can I ask why we’re being detained?”
“You’re not being held. We’re having a conversation here,” replied the soldier. “You’re free to go whenever you choose.”
“Okay, sir. I guess we’ll be on our way,” said Lonnie, as he and Jake were handed their IDs back.
“Do you know what that is?” asked the soldier, pointing to the bridge?
“No, sir,” replied Jake.
“That’s the relocation camp for the area, just across the bridge,” said the soldier.
“They take men, women and children. No pets, though,” he added, pointing to an unusually calm Ringo on the trailer.
“Also, no weapons or belongings?” asked Vlad, already knowing the answer.
“None of that is needed. In our relocation camps, everything you need is provided for you—safety, shelter, food, water, and even jobs to keep your mind occupied. There are also hot showers and classes for the kids.”
“So, the residents are free to leave the camp whenever they want?” asked Vlad in a semi-sarcastic tone.
“Everyone is happy there. No one wants to leave,” was the reply.
Our Commander in Chief is recommending that all citizens report to the closest camp until we get things back u
nder control.
“Thank you, sir,” replied Lonnie, “for the invitation, but we will have to pass.”
“Where you headed?” the soldier asked.
“Colorado,” replied Lonnie.
“Well then, I’m sure you’ll be passing through Amarillo, and later northern New Mexico. Let me look,” he said, pulling out a map.
“We have camps set up in Raton, New Mexico, as well as Trinidad and Boulder, Colorado, if any of you change your mind.
“We just had a talk with the coffee guy, Harry. We understand you ran into them a couple of hours ago. Our camp will give those families protection that they won’t get out there in the grasslands.”
“What about Ronna…I mean Harry?” Lonnie asked.
The soldier pointed to the chopper hovering 300 feet above.
The side door opened and out came a screaming man, flailing his arms as he fell. He landed hard on the ground with a thud and was silent.
“It’s not wise to use women and children as human shields while you rob good people,” the soldier replied.
“So, do we get our guns back?” asked Vlad.
“Don’t get into any trouble,” said the soldier, as he and his men headed back to the chopper.
As the helicopters moved out, we regrouped on the trailer a few miles down the road.
“I guess crossing the bridge is out,” I said.
* * * * * * *
Chapter Three ~
Lake Arrowhead
South Wichita Falls, Texas
“We can detour to the southwest a couple of hours and still catch a lakeside view before nightfall,” said Lonnie.
Staying clear of Wichita Falls to the south and west sides, we made our way back to Highway 287 toward Amarillo.
The south side of the lake was a sight to see. There were camping spots dotted across the shoreline, all empty.
With no houses near this side of the lake, and very few working cars in the area, we had the place to ourselves.
“Five minutes after five,” Jake announced, looking at his pocket watch. With the vehicles circled, the adults made plans to get some things done.
“Jake and I can set up the yo-yo reels quickly, and hopefully we’ll have a good dinner tonight,” I offered.
“Okay,” said Lonnie. “Mike and Steve can provide security if the ladies want to get the kids a bath over there, away from the fishing,” as he pointed to a shallow inlet partially surrounded by trees and bushes.
“And I’ll get a fire going,” said Lonnie. “Vlad, do you mind covering all of us from the trailer before you have the vodka shots I’ve been hearing about?”
“That can be done, yes; the Beluga can wait.”
“Honey,” said Joy, pulling me aside. “The boys haven’t seen you much lately.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. We’ve just been so busy.”
“Maybe you two can take your boys and Danny to help with the fish things,” suggested Nancy.
“You guys want to go with us?” asked Jake to the four most excited boys I’d ever seen.
“By the smiles and hollering, I’d say they do,” I replied.
“Okay, we have 16 to put out,” said Jake. “I’ll show you guys how to do the first one, then you can each set some. We’re looking for bass and catfish, so we will bait them all a little differently and see what works.”
I tied the first one to an overhanging branch and threw the pulled line out to a deep spot with some deer scraps that had been purposely left out in the sun for catfish bait.
“That stinks!” said Danny, as each boy grabbed their nose, making a face.
“Yeah, boys. That’s what catfish like—the stinkier, the better,” said Jake.
“Okay, guys, pay attention over here,” I said, pointing to a reel. “Once the line is out, you set the reel, and it does the rest.”
“Easy peasy,” said Hudson, just as the reel disengaged and started to twist and shake.
“I wasn’t expecting that!” said Hendrix, using a line he heard on one of his old cartoons called Jonnie Test.
“Yeah! Me neither!” said Jake, looking at me with his eyebrows raised.
“Lucky strike!” I replied. “Let’s see what we’ve got,” pulling the line in, using my fishing towel to keep my hands from becoming Swiss cheese.
The hefty catfish was pulled ashore, to the delight of the boys.
“Let’s weigh this guy!” said Jake, hanging it on the scale. “Four pounds, six ounces.”
“That’s a good-looking fish!” hollered Vlad from the trailer. “A few more of those and we will have a feast tonight.”
Over the next 90 minutes we hauled in over 40 fish, ranging in size from a half-pound to a monster catfish at 26.5 pounds.
Jake weighed every one, with the boys’ help. All said, we had over 100 pounds of fish to cook.
Most of the adult men and women pitched in to get them filleted. A few of the ladies started on dinner, and Jake and I set up the smoker rack for the rest.
“It going to be another long night,” said Jake.
“That’s right, buddy,” I said, “but every long night comes with a lot of new food so far. If we stayed here for a week, we could feed an army.”
Everyone ate their fill, including Ringo.
“You missed your bath, boys; you’ll get one in the morning, though,” Joy told them.
“You boys too!” said Nancy to Jake and me.
After an adult meeting called by the ladies, we agreed to split the security and fish smoking between more people. The ladies argued that they should be on security as well, and we all agreed to give it a try.
My shift tonight would only be an hour and a half. Not bad, I thought. Maybe I can get a good night’s sleep, after all.
Jax, Hudson and Hendrix all wanted Ringo to sleep in our tent.
“When we get to Colorado, he can sleep with you every night, but out on the road, we need him outside,” I told them. “He has a very important role because out here he’s a Super Dog.”
“He’s going to need a cape,” said Jax, matter of factly.
“Good night, boys,” I said, as I stepped out of the tent. “I love you guys.”
“We love you too, Daddy.”
“Check that out,” said Vlad, pointing across the lake. “Those lights out there must be the FEMA camp.”
“Looks like it,” I added. “Full electricity and all the comforts of home…if you don’t mind being a brainless zombie, that is.”
“I’ve heard that they separate the men from the women and children,” said Vlad.
“How crazy would it be to have your wife and kids so close but not be able to see them?” added Jake.
“Don’t worry, buddy,” I said, petting Ringo on the head. “That’s not our fate.” He barked once, laying his head down for an after-dinner nap.
The sun rose early the next morning, as always, and it reminded me of one true constant thing: the sun will always rise.
Jake and I set half of the yo-yo reels out to catch some breakfast. At this point, with the smoked fish and what we could fit in the freezers, we had all we could carry.
Jake and I took our boys for a morning bath. They were complaining that it was cold.
“A true fisherman fishes first and bathes later, even if it’s cold,” I told them.
“That’s why I’m a fisher boy,” said Hudson, getting a laugh out of us all.
Ten fish made for a hearty breakfast, as we packed up to head out. Even the kids ate their fill without complaints.
“Nine a.m. Not bad!” said Jake, looking at his watch.
Our group headed west, then turned north, back towards the highway.
Steve got the ham radio up and tried to reach David on Raton Pass. Mark was operating the radio today and was quick to get his dad.
“Hey, David,” I said, getting on the line.
“How’s the trip?” he asked.
“It’s been interesting so far, but slow going,” I told him. “We’re going
to be a little longer out, but we’re coming. Can you let James know we still intend to honor our deal?”
Next World Series (Vol. 2): Families First [The Road] Page 4