“That’s a fact,” Benny said, coughing hard to clear his chest before he could speak. “I don’t think we need to worry about them just yet. Twenty-five or more miles and back again is a long trip these days.”
“I’m worried about you too, Uncle Benny. I hoped they would be back by now with something that would help you get over that mess. You shouldn’t try to talk. I know it hurts you when you have to cough to clear your throat.” April and Jason had already discussed Benny’s condition when they were out of earshot. They were almost certain it had developed into pneumonia, or if it hadn’t yet, that it would.
“I don’t know of anything we can do for him if Mitch doesn’t find antibiotics,” Jason had said. “At his age, unless his immune system is strong enough to fight it off, we have to be prepared for the fact that this might kill him.”
April knew he was right. The only thing they could do was try and make him rest and minimize his exposure to the elements. That was much easier now that the lean-to was completed. So far, the roof had been leak-proof, even in a heavy rain, and Jason and David and Stacy were working on constructing the walls that would enclose the two sides and back from the ground all the way up to the rafters. From Benny’s directions, Jason had taken charge and had fitted additional vertical posts cut from large saplings. The posts were set in pairs about six to eight inches apart, with one aligned with the outermost rafter and the other set inside of it. The gap between the pairs was there to provide a space into which they could then stack smaller poles and logs laid horizontally until they were up to the level of the lower back end of the roof. This gave them three side walls that were five feet high; which was enough to block most any cold wind and blowing rain that might reach it in the natural protection of its deep forest location. The open gaps above the walls at the high end provided an additional escape for any smoke that didn’t go out the front. This allowed them to use a second, smaller fire pit located completely under the front edge of the roof when the weather was rainy. All in all, it was an excellent design that Benny had come up with to utilize the metal they had with the natural materials on hand. April felt as safe and secure there as she had in the house, and after what happened that awful night, probably more so. At least here there was no road along which a large band of attackers could approach. And if anyone came down the creek, they would see and hear them easily enough before they were taken by surprise.
She had walked down to the sandbar to look up that creek more times than she could count today, each time hoping to see a canoe rounding the bend, bringing Mitch and Lisa and the goods they hoped to trade for. And no matter what Jason said about the reasons they could be delayed, April knew she would keep checking; one more time tonight before going to sleep, and endlessly throughout the day tomorrow and beyond until she saw them.
“They could be bringing so much stuff back that they’re having to let the horses rest more too,” Stacy said. “That was a lot of guns Mitch took. If he was trading them for clothes and food, I’ll bet they would buy a lot. They may have the horses so loaded down that they’re having to walk all the way back.”
“It’s hard to say,” Jason said. “Guns and ammo are valuable, no doubt. But look at how many clothes we used to all wear before this happened, and they still wore out pretty fast. Now, a lot of people have been wearing the same clothes day after day, like we have. There would be only so many new ones in the stores, just like food, and you know the looters must have gotten most of those in most places. If they have things like new jeans and shirts and shoes in that trading post in Purvis, you can bet they’re gonna want a high price for them. Because they can’t get any more.”
“People will start making their own again, like our grandma did.”
“Some will. But they still have to have the cloth to make them from. And they’ll need sewing machines; not the kind that only run on electricity either, but the old fashioned kind. How many people do you think still have those?”
“I guess they can sew by hand,” April said. She had no experience with sewing herself, as it was not something her mother did. It seemed really complicated, and in the world she grew up in, most people didn’t have the time for quaint hobbies like that. Now they did, of course, but how many of them knew how? She sure didn’t, although she was eager to learn.”
“Sewing by hand is slow,” Stacy said. “I saw grandma do it sometimes, but only for the finishing details and little things. It would take a long time to make clothes that way.”
“Mitch made that buckskin shirt by hand,” Jason said.
“Moccasins too,” April reminded him. “I’m going to ask him to make me some as soon as he has time. Or at least show me how so I can do it.”
“He’ll do it for you,” Stacy said. “He’ll make you anything you want April. He’s crazy about you.”
April knew she was right. She was crazy about him too, as improbable as that would have seemed to her at the time she met him. He was two years younger and while that wouldn’t normally be a big deal if they were both a bit older, he was still a high school student, while she already had a child of her own. Of course, that had been almost a year ago now, and high school was a distant memory for Mitch and everyone else, but still, it would have seemed absurd to her then if someone had suggested she would fall in love with him. Mitch was so different from any guy she’d ever known. She was a girl of the city and he grew up out here in the middle of nowhere. He was a hunter and a farmer and she would have called him a redneck or at least a county hick back when she didn’t know any better. But now that she knew him, she knew he was one of the smartest and bravest young men she had ever met. He was like her own late father in many ways; capable of things few others would dare to attempt. Yeah, she loved him, and that was why she was so anxious as she sat there wondering where he was.
Nineteen
“I DON’T SEE WHAT the hurry is, Johnny. We could stay right here where there’s already a nice fire and get to know our new little friend.”
“You’re an idiot, Preston. You wanna get bushwhacked the same way we got the drop on her and the old man? That’s the stupidest idea you’ve had in a long time, and you’ve had plenty of dumb ones lately. Now get a blindfold on her and get her up on one of those horses. I want to get back to the house before daylight.”
“It ain’t like she’s gonna be able to see where we’re going in the dark….”
“Blindfold her anyway! We don’t take stupid chances. You saw how that worked out the last time!”
Lisa felt her whole body tense as the man called Preston approached her again, pulling a bandana out of his pocket.
“Leave me alone, you creep!” she screamed. But he moved quickly and was behind her before she could roll out of the way with her hands and feet tied the way they were. He pulled her hair as he struggled to wrap the bandana around her head while she did her best to bite his hand before he succeeded. In the end, her struggle was in vain. Even if she could stop him, what could she do against all three? Preston and the third man, who he called Curtiss, put her on one of the packhorses after untying her ankles to get her in the saddle. Then they tied her bound wrists to the saddle horn in front of her, and she felt her mount move beneath her as they set out at a walking pace to God knows where.
Lisa couldn’t be sure, but from what she had seen of their features in the firelight, all three of these men were young, probably in their twenties. She didn’t recognize any of them, but that didn’t mean they weren’t from around here somewhere. They could have even gone to her school but would have graduated sometime when she was still in elementary. All of them had beards and long hair, and they looked like they were living in the woods the same as she and her brother and friends. She didn’t have to wonder why they were taking her. She just wished they had shown some mercy to poor old Mr. Holloway. He deserved better than to be led off into the woods and shot like a sick dog. But after all she’d seen by this point, what happened didn’t surprise her. There would be no mercy for her e
ither if she didn’t go along with what these men wanted. Her only hope was to escape, but that wasn’t much of a hope as long as she was tied to a horse blindfolded. She had no idea if they were going north, south, east or west. The only indication she had of the route was that for the first twenty minutes or so she could tell from the sound of the horse’s hooves that they were on a road. After that, they apparently turned off into the woods. Overhanging branches brushed her head here and there and she had to constantly shift her weight to maintain balance as the horse went up and down hills and crossed ravines.
Her captors had been silent since their arguing back and forth back at Mr. Holloway’s camp. The one they called Johnny, who had slipped up behind her with the shotgun, was apparently in charge, though from their banter she gathered that might only mean that he was the oldest; perhaps an older brother to one or both of the others. From what she heard of their speech, she knew they were local rednecks, whether from Brooklyn or somewhere in the surrounding county. They were likely taking her to a house or camp fairly close by if they expected to get there before daylight at this pace. She supposed that was better than if they were taking her far away, and figured if she had a hope of escape it would likely come sometime after they arrived. There was simply nothing she could try in the predicament she was in at the moment. The question was whether or not she would be in any condition to attempt resistance or escape after they got where they were going. That they were taking her with them at all at least gave her hope they didn’t intend to kill her right away, but it didn’t mean they still wouldn’t when they were done with her or if she became a problem or a burden to them. This was the second time since the blackout that Lisa had fallen into the hands of men with bad intent. She and Stacy might never have escaped the Wallace brothers if Jason hadn’t survived to tell Mitch and April where they were. The two of them had not been harmed, but it was just a matter of time and they had waited in terror, knowing what was in store for them.
April had been in a similar situation when she and Kimberly were taken captive from their campsite, surprised by four men who nearly killed David with a blow to the head. She had later related her story to Lisa and Stacy in great detail, describing how afraid she was, not only for herself, but also for her little girl. Once again, Mitch had come to the rescue, but that was only because he saw what happened and was able to track down the men and kill them. No one knew what had happened to Lisa tonight though, and no one was coming to save her. If she expected to escape and survive to get home again, she was going to have to do it all by herself.
* * *
Mitch stopped and waited on the edge of the road for a few minutes once he was well out of sight of the barricades at Purvis. He wanted to be certain no one was following him; despite the good treatment he’d received from Sheriff Macon once the sheriff knew who he was. It was hard not to be a bit paranoid after his experience there, and Mitch was glad to leave the place behind. He knew he would probably return at least once to trade for the rest of the goods they needed, and especially to get back his Ruger, but he was glad to be out of there for now.
When there was no sign of movement on his back trail after a good ten-minute wait, he hurried on to reach the spot where he and Lisa had camped. Turning into the woods when he came adjacent to it, Mitch dismounted and led Amigo through the pines to the spot where he’d tethered the other horses. There was nothing to be seen. Lisa had left the place just as she’d found it. Mitch tied Amigo off and scanned the ground for tracks. He didn’t think it had rained during the time he was in jail, but leaves and pine straw covered the ground so deeply here that tracks would be hard to find regardless. But as his eyes swept the debris, he noticed a spot where the litter had been disturbed, and was unnaturally deep. When he stepped closer and knelt to see why, Mitch was delighted to find that the extra leaves were hiding his beloved longbow and quiver of arrows, as well as his dad’s AR-15 and the extra magazines he’d brought with it. Good thinking, Lisa! That’s my little sister, using her head and looking out for big brother!
Mitch felt immensely better now that he was once again well armed. The prospect of riding over 25 miles with no means of protection had been unsettling, considering the number of confrontations he’d had since the blackout. Finding the weapons waiting for him also assured him that Lisa was fine and that she’d done what he asked her and was likely already back home by now. The only bad thing about that was that everyone there would now be worried once she told them he didn’t return from Purvis. April would be the most upset, and Mitch was afraid they might decide to come look for him. To avoid that, he knew he needed to cover ground quickly and make it home as fast as he could to let them know he was okay. Benny needed those antibiotics too. Considering this, Mitch decided to continue on and risk daylight travel to make time. With his father’s AR close at hand and a good horse under him, he wasn’t as concerned now as he’d been on the way here when he had his little sister to protect as well as the extra pack animals to deal with. He figured if he pushed on all day, he would be past Brooklyn and on the Black Creek Trail by midnight.
Crossing Interstate 59 in broad daylight was one of the biggest risks he had to take. He stopped and dismounted to scout it thoroughly before riding Amigo across. It seemed as empty as it had been the night he and Lisa crossed, but once he was east of the southbound lanes and the median, he saw movement to the north of his position in the northbound lanes. There was adequate cover among the trees growing there, so he backed Amigo into the shadows and waited. At first, he’d thought it was a handful of people walking, but they were approaching too fast for that and as they drew nearer, coming down the hill a half-mile to the north, he could see that they were riding bicycles. Mitch dismounted and crouched in the cover of some low bushes, his AR in hand in case they stopped. He didn’t think they’d seen him, but it was better safe than sorry.
The riders were weaving their way through the stalled cars and trucks blocking the lanes, and as they closed in, Mitch counted eight of them, all on road bikes with stuff tied to the handlebars and lashed behind the seats or strapped onto racks. Whoever they were, it was obvious that they were traveling long distance. They were pedaling at a steady pace, but appeared to be wary of a possible ambush, keeping their speed around 10-12 miles per hour and scanning the road both ahead and behind while frequently glancing at the woods on both sides. When they were close enough to make out all the details Mitch saw that the party consisted of five men and three women, all deeply tanned and hard-looking from traveling and living outdoors. Some carried long guns slung on their backs and some of them wore side arms. They looked like savvy survivors, but didn’t have the look of the ruthless killers he’d seen so many of, as they seemed to be in a defensive mode rather than predator mode. Mitch wondered where they could be going, heading south on I-59, and concluded that maybe they had already traveled a great distance and were trying to reach some place on the coast or perhaps farther west once they reached I-10. It was tempting to yell out and ask them. Maybe they had news of the conditions in some completely different region of the country, haven ridden here from up north or somewhere on the East Coast. But he knew a sudden shout from the woods would startle them and cause and instant reaction. They would either panic and speed away or stop and go for their weapons. If they had been walking, it would be one thing, but at bicycle speeds they were already past him before he decided they might be regular folks. He watched them go and remained hidden where he was until they were out of sight, deciding that wherever it was they’d come from, the conditions were likely the same as here, otherwise, why travel by bike at all?
Mitch continued on across the interstate and was glad to again be on remote backroads where the chances of seeing people were slim. Darkness found him still several miles west of Brooklyn. Mitch would have liked to stop by and see Mr. Holloway, but his timing was wrong. It was well after midnight before he reached Highway 49 near the ruins of the little town. He didn’t want to frighten the old man by showing up
at his camp and waking him in the middle of the night and he didn’t want to get shot at if he happened to already be awake, sitting outside with that rifle. Mitch knew he could come back and check on him later, so he made a wide detour around the town and struck out for the place where the Black Creek Trail crossed the road. He would ride down it a ways, then stop and sleep for a few hours, giving Amigo a chance to rest too. Then he would be home and back in April’s arms before sundown the next day.
Twenty
LISA FELT THE HORSE’S movements over uneven ground for what seemed like at least an hour. They were either following a rough trail like the hiking trail she and Mitch had traveled to Brooklyn a few days before, or maybe even going cross country. Either way, staying balanced in the saddle while blindfolded was challenging, but she did her best because she didn’t want any of the three men to touch her again or restrain her more securely.
The motion changed when they seemed to arrive at another road and turned onto it. From the sound the horse’s hooves made and footsteps of the men, Lisa was pretty sure this one was a gravel road. That told her little though, as the entire region in any direction from Brooklyn was laced with gravel roads; many of them numbered U.S. Forest Service roads or shorter logging roads that dead-ended in areas of cutover. She had given up on trying to guess where they were taking her. All that mattered was getting away from them at the first opportunity, whenever and wherever that might be. Finding her way home was a problem she would solve later.
They were on the gravel road for maybe another hour before they turned off of it again onto softer ground. Lisa heard barking dogs running out to greet them and figured they were at their destination. One of the men shushed the dogs with curses muttered in a low voice, finally kicking one that persisted until it stopped with a sudden yelp and ran off whimpering. She figured there must be someone else there already that the men didn’t want to wake in the middle of the night, and this was confirmed by what she heard next.
The Savage Darkness (Darkness After Series Book 4) Page 12