Blizzard Warning: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (The Damaged Climate Series Book 3)

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Blizzard Warning: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (The Damaged Climate Series Book 3) Page 5

by J. R. Tate


  “A goodbye? You think he’s running off?”

  “You think he could be rejoining the looters?” Cecilia’s eyes widened and she rolled back over onto her back.

  “I sure hope not. That could be really bad for us.” Ryan clasped his hands behind his head. Never a dull moment! If Doug decided to go back to the looters, he’d have perfect intel to give them about how they were doing things. Food supply, locations of supplies, their foreseeable plans of town progression. Ryan grit his teeth at the thought of it. It took a lot for him to gain trust with someone. And only seconds of assumption for him to lose it.

  “What else could he be up to?”

  Ryan shrugged and stretched his legs out. An ice cold beer would’ve been perfect to ease his nerves. Maybe he should start making jailhouse hooch. It’d be great to drink when someone needed an escape.

  “I’d like to think he really was just being sincere. That’s what I have to tell myself right now. If I add just another ounce of worry onto everything, my head might explode.”

  “I don’t know.” Cecilia shrugged and leaned against him. “Feels like a red flag to me.”

  “I’ll have my dad talk to him. They seemed to bond well when they were going to Fox Lake.”

  “I’ve just had a weird feeling altogether. When I was hanging laundry, I could’ve sworn someone was watching me. And the stuff with Doug. Is there a full moon tonight because it’s like the crazies are coming out?”

  Ryan looked up at the moon, admiring the silver silhouette shining off of it. It wasn’t a full moon but it was big and bright, lighting up the pasture in front of them. He had a good feeling about their crops. They’d likely not produce huge vegetables starting off but it was a building process and it meant progress.

  They both sat in silence for a while, Ryan enjoying the feel of the rise and fall of Cecilia’s breathing. Coyotes howled in the distance, sounding oddly similar to a far off woman screaming into the night air. He remembered thinking that’s what it was when he was a kid. There were too many ghost stories involving wolves howling at the moon. Only tonight, it was real life and those wild packs of dogs were hungry and looking for food.

  After another hour of time alone, both Cecilia and Ryan had agreed to head back to the shelter. They wanted to check on Ty and their family. Ryan also wanted to see if Doug was around. Though he swore to himself that he wasn’t going to obsess over it, his biggest concern was on whether or not he was going to betray them and go back to the looters. With everything he knew, it would definitely give the criminals the upper hand if it did come down to all out war.

  Everyone was turning in for the night with several lanterns across the room fading. Ryan heaved a sigh of relief when he spotted Doug lying on his cot, his eyes closed. From his tense body language, the man wasn’t asleep but Ryan thought it best to leave him be. If the opportunity allowed him, he’d speak with him in the morning.

  “Ryan, don’t forget you have first watch tonight.” Chief Rayburn patted him on the arm, acting as if their heated exchange of words hadn’t happened. Ryan nodded in acknowledgment but was caught so far off guard that he didn’t really know how to respond.

  He checked on Ty who was busy coloring with a lava rock he had found outside. Swirling the black around on a piece of paper, he glanced up and smiled at Ryan and focused back on his work. Margaret seemed to be doing okay, sliding under a wool blanket and Darryl was brushing his teeth. Everyone was accounted for and ready for bed. Ryan should’ve felt confident to leave them for his turn at watch. But something still nagged at him.

  Joining his father, Ryan handed him a towel. “You talk to Doug recently?” He kept his voice low. He didn’t want to admit it, but Ryan was developing a trust issue with a lot of people, including everyone he knew from days before the tragedy.

  “Just in passing. Why?”

  “Just something he said to Cecilia. We need to keep an eye on him.”

  “What did he say?” Darryl wiped a glob of toothpaste from the corner of his mouth.

  Looking around the room, Ryan guided his father away from everyone. Paranoia was never something he enjoyed feeling but right now, if he were put in front of a psychologist, they’d say he was certifiable.

  “It’s not so much what he said… more like how he said it, Dad.”

  “You’re not making any sense, Ryan.”

  “He thanked Cecilia for everything we’ve done for him.” Saying it out loud did sound ridiculous. Maybe it was a mistake bringing his father into it.

  “And?” Darryl arched his eyebrow and draped the towel over his shoulder.

  “Like I said… how he said it. Cecilia said it seemed like he was telling her goodbye.”

  “Goodbye? Where the hell would he go?” Darryl’s voice rose and Ryan cringed, putting his index finger to his lips to remind his father to keep his voice low.

  “I don’t know. Possibly stabbing us in the back to help the looters?”

  “Nah. I don’t think so.”

  “How well do we really know him?” Ryan asked, glancing over his shoulder. Doug was still on his cot, his body more relaxed like he had finally fallen asleep.

  “I guess not well but I would hate to think that. Emotions are running high right now, Ryan. What if he was just truly being sincere and Cecilia misconstrued it? She doesn’t know him at all. How would she know what he truly meant?”

  “I don’t know.” Ryan sighed and raked his hand through his hair. “Maybe I’m just over-analyzing it, but I’d hate for him to run off on us. He’d be an excellent source for the looters.”

  “He would but I really think you’re reading way too much into it.”

  “Maybe.” Ryan wasn’t convinced. Something still nagged at him that there was something off. Maybe it wasn’t Doug possibly running away. There was definitely something not quite right with Doug and the impression he gave Cecilia. “Listen, I gotta get up to ground-level. It’s my turn to pull watch duty.”

  “Be careful, Son. I’ll keep an eye on everyone. And relax. You’re letting your mind play tricks on you.”

  Ryan took the stairs two at a time and double checked his handgun. The magazine was fully loaded and ready to go. With help from the moon, he was getting a nice view over Harper Springs. Sitting in the same spot he and Cecilia had recently been at, his eyes scanned in every direction – north, east, south, and west. It was a clear night and the temperatures were cool. The smell of fall surrounded Ryan and he took it in.

  He tried to think the best of people. He’d be more than happy to be wrong about his and Cecilia’s assumptions about Doug. He had to stop worrying about it eventually but now wasn’t the time. The fact that Doug was down in the shelter close to his family made his skin crawl. What in the hell was that man up to?

  Chapter Six

  Ryan finished his watch and instead of going back to the shelter after Steve took over, he took a walk. Being mindful of his surroundings, he walked along the probable fence line they were going to put up around the perimeter of Harper Springs. He hadn’t seen any movement the whole time he took watch but he was just one man and there were four directions anyone could come in from – or leave from, which made him think about Doug.

  If Doug did leave to turn against them, Ryan would have to speed up the process of making more ammunition. He’d love it if he could make guns as well but that was asking for too much supply that they didn’t have. It was like they had to develop their own military simply to keep intruders out. Since the American government had completely forgotten about them, or possibly even crippled themselves, it was every man for themselves. Ryan just hoped that in the midst of battle everyone would stick together.

  Walking the outer edge of town was calming. He made sure to let Steve know of his plans so the other guy wouldn’t see him in the distance and alert everyone. To be hurt or killed by friendly fire would be a tragedy after everything they had accomplished.

  Building the fence was going to take a lot. The temperatures were starting
to cooperate, though transitioning quicker than what was normal. Ryan looked up at the night sky, admiring the same blanket of stars he had with Cecilia – the view was spectacular, lending a silver silhouette up against the outline of the top of the mountains. It was like a panoramic picture a professional photographer would take.

  He padded past the roped horse corrals, the temporary storage area they had concocted, and back to the shelter. Sleep was still his enemy but he wanted to check on everything, especially on Doug. As long as he was within view of someone Ryan trusted, his worries of treason would dissipate.

  The door to the cellar squeaked open and Ryan tried to stay as quiet as possible. It was pitch dark except for a lamp near the bathroom area. He grabbed a flashlight and waited until he was closer to where Doug was sleeping before turning it on. Cecilia, Ty, Margaret and Darryl were safe on their cots, snoozing away. Ryan envied their capability to sleep so well. Maybe he’d eventually get there.

  Weaving around others, he clicked the flashlight on, making sure to not flash the beam directly on Doug. His heart skipped a beat when he saw the empty cot – the blanket was kicked back and balled up on the end and Doug’s backpack that was usually stored underneath was missing.

  “Son of a...” Ryan whispered. The son of a bitch was really doing it! He was turning his back on Harper Springs and the people who were gracious enough to give him a second chance. It was the dead of night. What if he was just overreacting and he woke everyone up over nothing? That wouldn’t be wise and he didn’t want to evoke panic on people who were already walking on eggshells.

  Ryan hurried back to Steve, running once he got to ground-level. His lungs burned and body ached, begging for him to sit down and rest. His mind played against his body’s desires and he sped up the hill, Steve’s eyes wide as he approached him.

  “You see anyone leave?” Ryan asked.

  “No. It’s been dead.”

  “I can’t believe this shit!” Ryan rested his hand on the top of his head and looked around. “That’s the last time I ever trust someone I don’t know!”

  “What in the hell is going on, Ryan?” Steve stood up and touched Ryan’s shoulder, making him stop moving in a circle.

  “Doug is gone.”

  “Gone? Where?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You’re going to have to explain, Ryan. I didn’t realize we were running a prison here. People are free to come and go as they please, right?”

  “Of course,” Ryan replied, pacing. “But Doug used to be one of them.” Ryan motioned his hand outward toward the empty pastures and fields where he was certain many of the looters were hiding and watching. “Cecilia talked to him earlier. She said he was acting weird, like he was saying goodbye. Considering his history, my first assumption is he left to rejoin the looters.”

  “That’s his choice, Ryan. If he really is doing that, let the son of a bitch go!”

  “It’s not that easy,” Ryan said, shaking his head. “He knows our future plans. All of that shit. He knows where we keep our supplies. It’s like having a spy. And it really pisses me off!”

  Before Ryan could say anything else, Steve patted his chest and pointed to the west toward the mountain range. “Could that be our friend?”

  Ryan stepped forward, squinting his eyes. The person walking was at least a half a mile away but it definitely looked like Doug.

  “It doesn’t matter who it is. We still need to check it out.”

  Ryan and Steve hurried down the hill, both running full speed toward the mysterious person in the distance. Ryan ignored his body’s warnings to stop. He was running on pure adrenaline and if it happened to be Doug deserting them, he wasn’t sure what he was going to do. They reached him quickly and when the man turned to face them, it took Ryan’s breath away when he confirmed that it was definitely Doug.

  “Where in the hell do you think you’re going?” Ryan asked, his voice raspy as he gulped to try and catch his breath.

  Doug didn’t respond. He held a cold and vacant expression and continued to walk as if Ryan and Steve weren’t there. Hoisting his backpack, he adjusted it and ducked his head as if he were out for a nice Sunday afternoon stroll.

  Ryan glanced at Steve who shrugged. It was weird and again, Ryan asked, “Where are you going, Doug?”

  “This doesn’t concern you.” Finally, Doug spoke, though he didn’t look at them.

  “I think it does.”

  “How do you figure?” Doug asked, finally looking at Ryan.

  “If you’re going back to the looters it definitely concerns me. It concerns all of us, Doug! It’s the safety of my family and friends.”

  Doug smirked and quickened his pace, getting a few feet ahead of them. “I wouldn’t worry about it, Ryan. You worry too damn much.”

  “We are here for you, buddy,” Steve finally chimed in. “Look at all of the progress we’ve made! Why leave now?”

  “I meant it when I told your wife thanks for everything y’all have done.” Doug hopped on a nearby rise in the ground, standing a few feet taller than Ryan and Doug. His eyes were dark and sunken in and the once talkative man Ryan had thought he got to know was solemn. “Y’all are good people.”

  “Then why are you leaving?” Ryan asked. “Like Steve said, we’re making progress. Did you see the pasture? We’ll be harvesting some vegetables and cotton soon.”

  “It’s all a lost cause. Like I said several times, Ryan. It’s just prolonging the inevitable. It’s dying slow. And I’m not going to let that happen to me.”

  Ryan saw the silver in Doug’s hand reflect off of the moonlight. He tried to dive toward him to stop whatever his plan was. Everything felt like slow motion but it was too late - the gunshot rang out, it’s deafening blow echoing against the foothills and mountains behind them.

  ~~

  Darryl jolted upward, sitting up on his cot. He felt the springs bounce beneath him, his breath labored, his heart racing as he tried to gain his composure. Looking around the room, it took him a second to realize where he was. Even after all of the months that had passed, he still wasn’t used to sleeping in a large room with people he didn’t know.

  It was dark but he rubbed his eyes to try and get a better view around him. Ryan’s cot was empty. Was he still on watch? They were only making each guy stay out a few hours. Steve’s cot was empty too. Something felt off and he gathered up his jeans and shirt, slipping into them in hopes to not wake Cecilia. He didn’t want to have to explain his concern to her. There was no need to panic. It could’ve just been a bad dream trickling over into real life. Chances were that Steve and Ryan were just out working in the cool of the night.

  Darryl couldn’t fight the nagging feeling, and as he walked through all of the cots, it heightened when he saw that Doug’s cot was also vacant. He thought he had developed enough trust in Doug to not question his every move but the fact that all three of them were gone at the same time wasn’t a good thing. He had learned to completely trust his instincts and something was off.

  Checking Cecilia and Ty one more time, he felt comfortable in leaving them. They were sound asleep and it was best if Cecilia was oblivious to whatever might be happening. The woman was already bouncing off of the walls with all of her worry. There was no need to panic about something Darryl had no clue about yet.

  Putting on his jeans and a shirt, Darryl crept up the stairs and outside, the night chill catching him off guard. He had no idea where to go so he headed toward the pasture first. That was where Ryan always went when he had something on his mind.

  Reaching the top of the hill, Darryl looked out over the area. The bright moon was helpful and at first, he didn’t see a thing. He didn’t want to yell out their names in case they were in danger. Ryan had voiced how dangerous the group of looters could be. What if they had kidnapped the three men? Knowing how valuable Ryan and Steve were to Harper Springs, it would’ve been a bold move that spoke volumes.

  Darryl saw movement to the west. Was it Steve
and Ryan? He couldn’t tell who they were but it was two men. In his older age, he couldn’t run like he used to but what he saw in the distance made Darryl move faster than he had in years, almost as fast as when they got surrounded by the wildfire that almost took their lives.

  He was chancing fate, running toward the unknown. He could be stumbling right into a trap and the looters would have four men from Harper Springs. He slowed his pace as he got closer, gasping to get his breathing under control. Ever since the dust storms, Darryl’s respiratory issues never got back to normal. He was okay to continue to work but there was definitely a difference in the tightness in his chest. It didn’t take a doctor to make him realize that he probably had a mild form of Brown Lung Syndrome.

  As he got closer, the scene revealed Ryan kneeling next to a motionless body and Steve standing over him, his hat off, both heads ducked as they looked down. What had happened? Was Ryan forced to take another life out of self-defense?

  Both men must have heard him approach because they looked in Darryl’s direction, Ryan’s eyes widening as he spotted his father. Darryl stopped walking and stood still, his hands raised to his shoulders, making sure Ryan wasn’t jumpy.

  “What is going on?” Darryl asked, unable to get a look at the person’s face. By process of elimination, it was pretty clear that the body was Doug. He just wanted to know how the hell it happened.

  “It’s Doug...” Steve confirmed, his voice trailing off.

  “What happened?” Darryl asked, keeping his voice low.

  Ryan was sensitive when it came to the two men he had killed so he approached it delicately. Finally taking a few steps forward, he got a better vantage point. Doug’s fingers were still wrapped around the handle of the gun, his index finger resting on the trigger. Blood splatter painted the rocks behind him red and he lay in a puddle of his own bodily fluids. Though there was no denying he was dead, his eyes stared up at the sky, the blue of his irises bright against his lifeless face.

 

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