by Dirk Patton
“No, they made it out OK. But the Jeep’s a total loss. I’m Brian Childress, by the way.”
Katie stood staring at him for a long moment, getting the measure of the man. Finally satisfied that he was what he appeared to be, a man trying to protect his family and get them to safety, she stepped around the open door and held her hand out.
“Katie Chase.” She introduced herself.
Brian waved the rest of his group forward and made the introductions. His wife Cathy was a small woman, and it was immediately obvious that she made the decisions for the family. They were the ones driving the Jeep that had made it across the stream. Their vehicle had been lifted and outfitted properly for the rugged terrain. The second Jeep, when she got a better look at it, was a cheaper model that wasn’t good for much other than driving on slippery pavement. She refrained from asking them how they thought it would cross the stream.
The group was also heading for Payson where Cathy’s sister lived on a small ranch just outside of town. They didn’t know if she was OK or not, but they all thought the small town was far enough away from Phoenix that it had to be preferable to the chaos sweeping through the large city’s streets. From what Steve had told her about the conditions in Payson, Katie was worried about being able to stay there and wait for John to find her. She had no idea where else she could go, other than away from Phoenix.
They spent a few minutes talking, then Katie shuffled supplies around in the Ford to make room for the family that had lost the Jeep. Everyone had lots of questions for her, all of them amazed that she was out here on her own, but she put them off as they busied themselves moving supplies from the disabled Jeep into her truck. The sun was heading for the horizon and she wanted to get to the top of the next ridge before dark.
The parents were Ken and Patty, their kids John and Samantha. Once everyone was loaded, Katie got the truck turned around and rolling, concentrating on her driving. Brian followed with his family in their Jeep, staying close enough to keep her in sight but far enough back to leave room for maneuvering if anything unexpected happened.
“Do you know Cathy’s sister?” Katie asked as the truck lurched over a large rock.
“We do. We’re all school teachers.” Patty answered from the back seat. “We used to all work together in Gilbert but Trish, Cathy’s sister, got divorced and wanted to get away from the city so she took a job with the school district up in Payson.”
Katie nodded her head, happy with the answer. Other than her it wouldn’t be a bunch of strangers showing up asking for a place to stay.
The sun was almost touching the horizon when they crested the ridge. Katie drove a couple of hundred yards until she found a mostly level area where they could spend the night. There was still plenty of light up where they were, but the canyons on either side of them were already in shadow and quickly getting darker.
As soon as they parked, the two men set about gathering wood for a campfire while the women kept a close eye on the children who were energetic after a long day cooped up in vehicles. Katie almost told them to not light the fire, but decided to check with Steve first. If there was no one around to see it, the night would be passed much more comfortably with a fire to heat their food and keep them warm.
Katie took the sat phone and moved away from the camp before dialing. She had a short conversation with Steve, cutting off his renewed objections about her having gone back to help the group. He had assured her in a sullen voice that there weren’t any other people within twenty miles of her current location. She was relieved to get off the phone.
The night passed quietly, Katie sleeping in the truck while the two families settled in around the fire. The sun was up early, waking them and after a lite breakfast they got back on the trail. It was early afternoon when they reached pavement, the sudden lack of bouncing over ruts and rocks disconcerting at first.
Payson was mobbed with refugees and everyone looked frightened. There was a noticeable absence of police or National Guard, but as they drove closer to town Katie frequently spotted heavily armed men on horseback. They sat on their mounts at the side of the road, not moving, keeping a close eye on everyone that passed. She suspected they were locals who had taken it on themselves to maintain order in their small town.
There were thousands of cars crammed into the center of town, tens of thousands of people on foot. Some wandered aimlessly, others strode purposely on some important errand. It was hard to navigate the crush of humanity, but Katie managed to remain patient as she worked her way towards the back of a long line waiting to fuel up at a gas station.
She had passed several stations that were empty, large signs at the edge of the road letting people know they were out of gas. The one station that was still open had two large tanker trucks sitting in its parking lot. Katie hoped they weren’t about to run dry as the gauge in the Ford said she had less than an eighth of a tank left.
“I hope there’s still some gas when we get there,” Ken said, craning his neck to try and get a better look at the station in the distance.
Patty nodded, looking worried but not saying anything. It was close to five minutes later after they had just moved forward a couple of car lengths when the sound of a disturbance came from behind them. Katie looked in the large outside mirror, checking on Brian and his family. They were fine, also looking in their mirrors.
Three vehicles behind Brian’s Jeep, two men were standing in the road screaming at each other as one of them gestured at the rear of his pickup. A woman got out of the vehicle farthest back and tried to calm things down by grabbing one of the men’s arm to lead him away, but he shrugged her off and renewed his verbal assault on the other man.
“What’s happening?” Patty asked from the back seat.
“Looks like someone probably tapped the bumper of the truck in front of them. Hardly worth getting worked up about, but people are scared and emotions are going to spill over.” Katie said.
As she finished speaking the first punch was thrown. Then the men were hitting and kicking each other, the smaller one pushing the larger one against the side of his truck and raining blows to his stomach. Katie was startled when movement caught her eye and a horse and rider flashed past her window. It was one of the men she’d seen watching over the refugees. She watched in the mirror as the rider kept the horse at a full gallop, ramming the large animal’s chest and front legs directly into the two men that were fighting.
The men were sent sprawling and the horseman reined in his mount. By the time the first man started to climb back to his feet the rider had swung down to the pavement and taking two big strides he hammered the man’s head with the butt of his rifle. The man fell back to the ground, unconscious, the second man staying on the ground and raising his hands in surrender when the rider turned in his direction.
Two more horsemen rode up as Katie watched, these staying mounted and pointing rifles at the men on the ground. The first rider said something to the man who was still conscious and he quickly scrambled to his feet and disappeared into his vehicle. The woman who had tried to intervene dashed to the unconscious man and dragged him to their vehicle. She couldn’t get him inside and the rider waved her aside, lifted the man by his belt and shirt collar and tossed him into the back seat of the car.
Commotion over, the man swung back up into the saddle and nodded to the other two riders who turned their horses around and slowly walked them away. The first man stayed right where he had mounted the horse, keeping watch over the two fighters to make sure things remained calm. Katie didn’t know who these guys were, but was glad to see them maintaining a degree of law and order even if it was frontier justice style.
12
An hour and a half later Katie stopped the truck next to a gas pump. Half a dozen of the horsemen, weapons plainly displayed, guarded the station. A teenaged boy stood with the pump nozzle in his hand, waiting as an older woman walked up to Katie’s window, looking the truck over as she approached.
“Big thing us
es a lot of gas, huh?” She asked. Katie nodded and held up some cash.
“That don’t do you no good, sweetie. Food, booze or cigarettes. That’s what’s worth somethin’ now. What you got?” The woman asked, trying to see into the bed of the truck, but the cover was rolled shut and hiding Katie’s supplies.
“Food, I guess,” Katie said, unhappy that she hadn’t prepared for this.
“OK. Rate is five pounds of canned food per gallon of gas, and you’ve got to show me the cans before we start pumping.” The woman stared into Katie’s eyes.
Katie looked back at her, thinking that filling up the Ford’s big tank would cut significantly into her stock of food. The truck had a 36 gallon tank and was nearly empty. But if she didn’t get gas, she was stuck in Payson, and despite the self-appointed peacekeepers she didn’t like the idea of not being able to leave if things got bad.
Making a decision she wasn’t happy with she turned the engine off and stepped down from the cab. Walking the woman to the back of the truck she lowered the tailgate and let her see inside the bed. Bent at the waist she peered inside for a moment before straightening up and telling the teenager to fill the tank.
While the boy pumped gas, the woman had Katie start handing her cans of food that she piled into the hanging bowl of a scale that looked like it had been taken from the produce section of a grocery store. They kept pace with the readout on the pump, the handle clicking off at just over 34 gallons. A few more cans added and she checked the piece of paper she was using to keep track.
“One hundred and seventy pounds. You’re good, sweetie.” The woman said, handing two cans of beef stew back to Katie.
Katie tossed them in with the nearly depleted cache of food in the truck, slammed the tailgate and climbed back into the cab. Pulling forward a few feet she waited as Brian went through the same routine, filling the Jeep’s smaller tank. Re-fueled, he pulled up next to her and Cathy leaned out her open window.
“Follow us,” she said. “My sister’s place is just a few miles away.”
Katie nodded and fell in behind the Jeep. They only moved slightly faster going away from the station than they had approaching it. The small town’s narrow streets were crushed with traffic, both vehicle and pedestrian. People were frightened, and the fear was palpable, but so was something else. It took Katie a while to recognize it, but her tension ratcheted up a few notches when she did.
Desperation. Now she could see it in the faces of many of the other drivers, but especially in those that were on foot. Fear is one thing, but most people can deal with being afraid. Being desperate is something else entirely. The feeling of complete helplessness will spur some people to sit down and give up, but it will cause others to do things to survive that they wouldn’t normally even consider. Then there’s the ten percent of the population that just doesn’t give a shit and will take advantage of any situation.
It took less than twenty minutes for them to make the drive to Cathy’s sister’s small ranch. A large, yellow school bus sat in front of the house, children running and playing in the yard as a handful of women watched over them. Introductions were made and stories exchanged, Katie joining the families in a lite meal.
Early evening came quickly and Katie decided to go to the hotel where she had told John in the note she’d left for him that she would be waiting. She didn’t plan to stay there, but wanted to leave word with the owners where she was so John could find her if he showed up. Her optimism that he would find her was running short, but she’d learned many years ago to not count him out. He was the most stubborn and determined man she’d ever known.
The hotel was only about five miles away, between the center of town and the ranch where Katie was staying. It had been built in the 1950s and was nothing more than a couple of dozen rustic cabins scattered amongst the pine trees. When the current owners had purchased the property in the late 90s they had completely remodeled the interior of each cabin, and while the place looked vintage from the outside, the interiors were sleek and upscale with every modern amenity.
When she turned onto the short, dirt road that lead to the hotel, Katie was surprised to see people camping amongst the trees. Every available foot of ground was occupied, vehicles parked along the side of the narrow track. When the trees opened up for the hotel’s grounds she had to stop as the entire area was packed full of refugees. People wandered about, retrieving water and taking care of other needs.
Pulling to a stop, she climbed out of the truck and looked around as she hit the button to lock the doors. Several campsites were occupied by groups of men, all of them staring at her as she stood there. Slipping the truck’s keys into her pocket she adjusted the holstered pistol on her hip and headed for the building marked as registration.
The door to the office was locked when she tried the handle, but she knocked and after a minute an older man wearing jeans and a flannel shirt appeared, staring at her through the glass door. She could see a revolver holstered on his hip and he carried a short-barreled shotgun in his right hand.
“We’ve got no room, but you can camp under the trees if you want.” He shouted through the door.
“That’s not what I want,” Katie shouted back. “Can you please open the door so I don’t have to yell?”
The man looked at her a moment, eyes flicking to the weapon on her belt, then up and over her shoulders to make sure she was alone. Time stretched out, but he finally reached forward and flipped a locking lever and pulled the door open a few inches.
“What do you want?” He asked, a firm grip on the handle.
“I had to leave Phoenix before my husband got home. I left him a note telling him I’d be here. We’ve stayed here before and he’ll know the place. I’m staying at a ranch outside of town and I’d just like to leave a note with you so he can find me if he shows up. Please? That’s all I want.” Katie made sure to keep her hand away from her pistol and gave the man a smile when she finished talking.
“Oh let her in already, Russ.” A woman Katie hadn’t seen stepped up next to him and pushed him aside to pull the door open. “Come on in, honey.”
Katie smiled at her and walked into the office, Russ pushing the door closed and locking it behind her.
“If I can just borrow a piece of paper and a pen, I’ll write a quick note and be out of your hair.” Katie said.
The woman stepped behind a polished counter and retrieved a notepad and pencil from a drawer, laying them on the registration desk for Katie to use. Her husband stayed at the door watching something going on outside the building. Katie quickly wrote out a note to John letting him know where to find her, folded the piece of paper in half and handed it to the woman.
“His name is John Chase. I’m his wife, Katie. He’s a big guy. Over six foot, strong, shaved head. Well, it was shaved. He may not have had a razor to keep it that way. Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome, honey. Good luck to you and be careful out there. There’s some real bad guys coming up from the city. We hear women screaming every night.” Katie was surprised when the woman stepped forward and hugged her.
Russ opened the door and she slipped back outside into the quickly darkening evening. Campfires dotted the area, the smell of food cooking making her stomach rumble even though she’d eaten just a couple of hours ago.
Walking quickly, Katie reached the truck and popped the locks with the remote in her pocket. She didn’t see or hear the man that was following her until she opened the driver’s door and it was suddenly blocked from opening far enough for her to get in.
“What’s your hurry?” He asked, smiling out of an unshaven face. “Would you like some food? Maybe a drink. Got plenty of both.”
The man wasn’t large, but still larger and stronger than she was. Katie took a slow step back to open some space between them and darted her eyes around the area to see if he was alone. She felt a little better when she didn’t see anyone else. The man was armed with a pistol and a large hunting knife, both strapped to
his belt, but his hands weren’t anywhere near either weapon.
“I’m just waiting for my husband,” Katie said, hoping the thought of a male’s impending arrival would deter the man from whatever he had in mind.
“I don’t think that’s true,” he said. “I seen you drive up alone. Now, I’ll ask again nicely. Why don’t you come have a drink with me?” He pushed the Ford’s door closed and started to take a step forward.
Katie smiled at him, which caused him to hesitate, and holding his eyes with hers she kicked straight up with her right foot. The steel toed boot connected solidly with the man’s balls, his breath whistling out in a faint, high-pitched hiss as he instantly folded and fell to the ground where he rolled into a knot.
Not waiting to see if he had any friends in the area, Katie yanked the door open and jumped into the truck. Getting the engine started she slammed it into drive and hit the gas, spitting dirt as she whipped the truck around, narrowly missing the man on the ground.
13
The group spent the next few weeks at the ranch. Friends of Cathy’s sister drifted in and out, all of them with horror stories of what conditions were like to the south in Phoenix. A large garden and pigs and chickens kept everyone fed. Meals were supplemented with deer and elk taken from the forested mountains surrounding their refuge.
Katie was slowly losing faith that she would ever see John again. She knew the country had been devastated, and Atlanta was a long ways away. A four hour flight before the apocalypse, but now it might as well be on the other side of the planet. Close to 2,000 miles, how could she expect him to fight his way to their home, find her note, then follow her to Payson. She knew that if there was anyone that could pull it off it was him, but as the days began to run together her hope faded.
Daily conversations with Steve kept her, and the group, updated on what was happening around the country as well as the more immediate area in the desert southwest. She was horrified to learn of the nuclear bombs used in Nashville to kill millions of infected. She hadn’t seen an infected, yet, and would be happy if she never did.