by Francis Bate
When he took the strength to drive back, he drove another mile and stopped to some cars blocking the road. Wondering what happened, he looked for some spaces enough for his truck to pass. But at the end of the commotion, there was the only car that caught his attention.
It was horizontally parked in the middle, not allowing anyone to pass through it. Slamming the steering wheel with his hands, he took out his gun, opened the door and moved out. Standing by the car door, he saw an image move from the driver’s seat.
Stan alertly angled his gun from his chest and pointed it towards the car. The person straightened up, feeling the pain on her forehead, glancing at him. Blood started dripping down a cut and it seemed like she had a blow. Groggy, she leaned back to her seat and closed her eyes wincing in pain. He looked around the area and saw no other people around them.
Stan placed his gun on his side and jogged back to his car. He grabbed the first aid kit from his bag, locked the door, and went back to the woman.
Looking at her, he tried to open her side door and it was unlocked.
“Hey, are you with me? How are you feeling?” He asked after checking her pulse, he saw her nod at him.
“You can speak, just don’t move any part of your body especially your head,” Stan said softly loud so she could hear.
Stan reclined her chair in a lying down position. He assessed the wound site after taking a set of gloves from his kit, wearing it on his hands. Cutting clean gauze, he pressed it firmly on the site applying steady pressure for about fifteen minutes.
The gauze was soaking with blood which made him add more in a layer. Making sure that the woman was conscious, he was trying to communicate with her for further observation.
“Can you relate to me what happened that you acquired a blow on your head?” he asked, continuing the cycle.
“I don’t know what happened. I just ended up hitting the brake hard,” she explained in a soft voice, still her eyes close.
“Can you drive? Your cut is deep,” he stated, glancing at her.
The bleeding has stopped and so he had to dress it. The red liquid covered half of her face, mixing with her make up.
“I guess I have to rest for a moment,” she said and drifted into unconsciousness. Her droopy eyes told him that she was too sleepy to take another mile.
Stan lifted her and transferred to the back seat when she said she felt dizzy. He laid her down and clasped the seatbelts on. Sitting on the driver’s seat, he maneuvered the car parking it straight along the road. He thought that he couldn’t pass through if it stays that way.
Before moving back to the car, he checked her again, peacefully sleeping on the car seat. He saw that she has some supplies in her car and so he left the woman with a window half open. He locked the doors dropping the keys on the open window.
Stan walked towards his truck, unlocking the door and driving away. Darkness has donned the day revealing the terrors of the night. He kept his gun and watched as the main light of his car illuminate the crooked cemented path.
The car roared letting it glide down the open way. He added more speed and the trees passed by like a rapid arrow released from its bow in the air. After enjoying its cool air, he slowed down maintaining a speed at sixty.
Smoke came out of the trees in the forest. Gunshots were heard in the stillness of the night. He dimmed his headlights and continued driving away from the scene.
At around two-thirty at midnight, he parked near an empty space in the forest where he slept the night away.
Jarvis passed through the town where he was hurled with various objects cracking the windshield of the car. As he went through the town, he saw how it was devastated by a fire. It has burnt into ashes as its walls were painted black. Half of the town was engulfed in blaze wiping out its original beauty.
The end of the town was as sad as where he has started. Some buildings collapsed helplessly exposing the poignancy of it.
Entering the state highway forty, a long wide bridge revealed the shining shimmering salt water. The familiar breeze reeked with a fishy finish. The neon-blue hue glimmered in a silver lining in an afternoon glow.
Taking in the scenery, he closed his eyes and sniffed the air missing its calming effect. The once busy bridge has toned down to an idle thoroughfare. He frowned at the aftermath it has taken them.
It was so fast but it actually never was.
Reaching the edge of the link, he parked his car on an emergency byway. The fuel signal beeped signaling an almost empty tank. He went straight ahead and turned right into an empty driveway.
Jarvis slid down the truck to the back, carrying the gallon of diesel with his hand. He refilled the tank emptying the gallon and tossing it back to the trunk. Before he went back inside, he shook the car slightly combining the fuel to the machine.
Jumping back to the truck, Stan came out of his thought, wondering if he was safe. He brought his radio out, but the bar says the battery is empty. Jarvis took off his solar charger and linked the cord into the device charging it under the solar power.
Jarvis went back to the road, shiny beads of sweat run down his face. The scorching heat of the sun was punishing the world, little by little.
On an open road, he stepped on the brake for approximately half a kilometer away from a red Ford Fairlane. It stayed in the mid-lane like a lion ready to assail. The automobile roared on a neutral phase as the man behind the wheels pressed the accelerator vigorously.
Jarvis tapped his finger on the steering wheel nervously imitating what the other car was doing. The engines echoed in the forest, but before he could know it, the car rapidly bolted towards his direction. He pressed the pedal and spurred towards the lonely road.
The brake shrieked with the wheel and Jarvis maneuvered to the right. The truck drifted leaving a dark mark on the concrete. He glanced up to see his truck closely attached to the hood of the ford.
“Whew, that was so close! I knew you’d stop, though, even if it took you so much time to press the brake,” the man on the passenger’s seat said, smirking at him.
Jarvis shifted to reverse controlling the car but the car remained horizontally blocking the road. The four doors opened revealing four boorish men.
“Why don’t you move out of the car and join us here? The outside is always better than the inside, you have to come greet us too,” the man with a long hair and full beard exclaimed.
Jarvis moved out, keeping his weapons securely on his waistband.
“What do you need? I’m going home to my family, I don’t have time for this nonsense,” he responded, exchanging looks with them.
“Oh, fierce,” the other man said with a smirk on his face. They all chuckled but Jarvis just stared at them. “We’ll go straight if that’s what you wish for.”
“This ain’t a game and I am not dancing to your tune,” Jarvis hissed receiving another full laugh from them.
“This must be one of the good boys in town, eh?” He heard them say, the long-haired man strode a bit closer to him and tapped the car. “We want you to give us your truck.”
“No!” Jarvis yelled under his breath, his pitch rose a bit making them smirk.
“Why not? This would be a good deal in exchange of your life,” he said in a sing-song voice.
“Why not we make a deal?” Jarvis leaned on his car door and crossed his arms, locking his gaze to each one of them.
The men stared at each other as if contemplating about it. Their eyes were conversing that only they could understand.
“What’s the deal? Is this something has to do with your truck?” the man ridiculed, earning more laugh from the others.
Jarvis shook his head and shrugged. “Nah, it has nothing to do with my car. But it has something to do with… this,” he raised the skirt of his shirt revealing the metal on its holster.
“Whoa! That’s a good one, huh. Not what I am expecting but are you threatening us?” Jarvis was taken aback when the man pulled out a gun pointing the opening onto his
face.
“No, no, no,” he said with trembling lips, shaking his hands over his chest. “I could give you weapons and some ammo; I have lots of supplies here, just let me have the truck. I am on my way home to my family so I need the truck.”
The leader of the group eyed him from head to foot. He dropped his arm on his side and shrugged his shoulders.
“Well, let me take a look at it for a fair trade.”
Jarvis went inside the truck and took a bag with the weapons and ammo inside. He lifted it displaying before them. Looking at their eyes, he unzipped the bag and various guns came into sight.
Something sparkled in their eyes as they saw the shiny metals from it.
“I just deal with trusted people so how will I know I could trust you?” Jarvis held the bag on his hand zipping it back in place.
“Come on, we should have killed you right away,” he heard him say. “We are not asking you to trust us, but a good businessman does not fail his words.”
The leader signaled his driver to reverse the car and unblock the road so he could pass. The man went inside doing as he was told.
“So, is that fair enough for you? Unless you’re the one I couldn’t trust,” he stepped towards Jarvis and locked his gaze. He was an inch shorter but he could see him clearly.
“No, if you want we could make another trade. I have a bottle of Vodka with me and I saw you have diesel,” he started staring at him. “And I think I will run out of gas on the way. Would you like a trade?”
Jarvis edged back to the car grabbing the bottle on the back seat. He turned to face him holding it in his hand. The man stayed silent while staring at his hazel brown eyes. His lens mirrored a tiny image of his face on it.
After a moment of silence, he nodded and smiled. A man came into their circle handing the gallon to him. They exchanged their holds and put it back to the car.
Jarvis stepped into the car and glanced at them.
“I have to keep going now, nice bartering with you,” he said smiling before he accelerated and left them watching him drive away.
On his rear view, he could see them lined up when he drifted. The men placed the objects into their car and went opposite to the road Jarvis took.
The weapons he gave were just a few of the supplies he took from Patricia’s town.
With a small genuine smile on his face, Jarvis took the long determined road.
Chapter Nine: A Time for Death
“Another roadblock, huh. This place is full of shits and shenanigans, isn’t it?” Stan turned to face the voice he just heard. He was standing at the end of another bridge, planning on how to cross.
This time, there was no other way to traverse without being caught.
There were four men who joined him as he stood on the bridge. Their beer bellies were showing off in loose shirts. He scanned them with his eyes, stepping back in an alert. They all grinned at him showing no trouble. Furrowing his brow, he crossed his arms and leaned against the parapet.
“Yes, I just passed by another blockage earlier before I came here. It seems like they are really making it difficult for everyone to travel,” Stan stated, turning back his gaze to the roadblock meters far from them.
Their spot could not easily be seen from there and he parked his car in a secluded spot. He placed his hand on his waist and thought of some ways.
“Are you trying to cross the bridge too?” One man asked, sticking his gaze on the barricade. He saw at the side of his eyes that Stan nodded to his query. “Same with us but it seems impossible now that the military is doing their job.”
“Do you have any news about the actual situation?” Stan asked, glancing at them.
“Not that we heard of but we met a couple saying they could hardly leave the town because the armies are strictly on guard,” the man responded, rolling his gaze to the green.
“And we passed by a man being shot to death. It was brazen but I think this is our fate,” he said in a terrified voice. Shaking his head in disdain but bowed down to hide his fear.
“We’re going into the forest so we can avoid prying eyes on the open road. You can join us but we are leaving your truck here,” the men walked inside the forest turning back, waiting for his answer. “Are you coming or not?”
Stan stayed frozen on his spot. At the back of his mind, he was uncertain of their identity and intention. He thought for a moment, weighing his options in his mind. Glancing back at them, all eyes were directed at him.
The men felt his discomfort accompanied by endless doubt.
“We are good people with the purest intentions that you have met in your journey,” he listened at the assurance.
“Worry not, mate. We have one purpose similar to yours, and that’s to cross the bridge without being caught,” the man spoke for the group.
Stan nodded calming down his nerves.
“I just have to get some things on the truck. You could wait for me in there,” Stan stated and went back to his truck.
The men started journeying into the woods.
Unlocking, he packed everything that he will need leaving no traces behind except the gallons of diesel in the trunk. He hoisted the packs and ran into the woods, bringing the key of the truck with him.
Stan followed the footprints left on the ground leading to where the men were resting. Upon his arrival, they stood up and continued walking. Stan brought out his radio tuning into the channel where he heard the situations in other states.
“CQ, this is BCP, this is BCP. The world is under massive chaos. People are dying due to hunger but most of them are getting killed. Look out for a safe place to stay. Out.” The men listened as they walk to the forest. After the beep, another report came out halting them to space.
“Help! Somebody help me! I got shot by a crossbow and the hunter is chasing me!” Breaths of air and rustling of leaves were heard from the other line. The static sound of the radio came out cutting the communication.
“I have a strange feeling about this,” Stan heard one of the men he was with. “This is going to be really outrageous!”
They all waited for another report which came out in a flash. “You guys won’t believe what’s happening in the country today. This event has turned the cannibals out to the wild. It’s getting scary every day.”
Stan shook his head and grimaced in disgust.
“I knew it! This wouldn’t be any good. The government must have tried to prevent it before the event happened,” the man said clenching his fist. “But poor people, we are the ones suffering.”
“So you mean to say this has something to do with the government?” The other man with blue eyes said. He has golden hair and a goatee has grown longer on his face.
“What do you expect? Will they let their people starve to death? No,” the man responded. “But instead, they kill their own people. They have all the responsibility and I held them liable for all of these.”
Stan and the others connected the dots. The conversation he had with Chris came back to his mind. Remembering Chris, he shifted into their original channel and paged him.
“Chris, we are traveling back to the forest. Do you read me?” Stan exclaimed releasing the button and the beep came afterward.
“Go ahead, Stan,” the speaker revealed his friend’s voice.
“There’s another military roadblock at the end of a bridge. There’s no way we could cross,” Stan transmitted, glancing around the area.
“Are you safe? Stan, you don’t have to cross the roadblock. Find another route,” he advised in a worried voice.
“I’m safe, I found four men and we’re going in the forest. What’s your situation over there?” Stan tilted his head to see a better angle of the other men. He was walking behind the four, following their steps. They were silently listening to the conversation with interest.
“We left my house and we’re traveling by boat. The gang is with me,” Chris delivered as Stan stared at the radio on his hand.
Stan gasped, firing v
arious questions at him.
“Did something happen? Did they find out?” He asked with his jaw dropped.
“They sent some guys to spy on us, reasoning out that they are doubting our loyalty,” he explained, earning a sympathetic sigh from Stan.
“So you chose to escape and hide just like what the civilians do,” Stan stated, overhearing a silent nod from him.
“We have lesser power compared to them. One option when facing your enemy and you are aware that you can’t overpower them, you fleece,” Stan heard him chuckle. He was right; lesser power has nothing to do with greater ones.
As they were walking, the man yelled out to them, pointing out to something. They rushed towards the person to see a dock with a boat anchored on the side.
“That’s right, Chris. Wait until it’s the right time to act,” he answered but before he could reply, Stan relayed another message. “We saw a boat on the dock. I’ll have to leave now, report your situation every once in a while. Out,” he said, turning the radio off and pocketing it.
They rushed towards the boat jumping in a winning feeling. Stepping into the boat, he put his packs down and seated right beside the long haired man.
The boat was small but it could carry them. The greenish color of the water held it as it swayed through the tiny waves. The fishy smell strongly added to the odor of molds throughout the docks. Streamlined with silver, the boat spoke of power and agility.
“Do you really know how to operate this craft, huh?” The leader of their group asked, teasing the captain of the boat.
Glaring at them, he smiled evilly that only he could tell what he was thinking of. “You pay me with your trust and I will let you experience one of the best days of your life.”
The five of them took off a life jacket from under its seats and wore it comfortably. The engine roared making them hold their seats. As he lifted the anchor, he was ready to steer, reversing from the dock.
Stroking at the port vigorously, the bow switched to the right. He positioned the tiller to the left making the starboard steer. When they were back in their direction, he maintained the speed and continued maneuvering the steering wheel to the river.