by Caryl McAdoo
McKenzie tapped the old man’s note. “It’s a match. Praise God. We can get off these stupid tracks.”
An old barbed wire fence guarded a big, open farm field. According to the compass, the high-lines ran north by northeast.
Jackson shook his head. He didn’t believe some big guy in the sky orchestrated all this, but still remained at a loss to explain it with any logical rationalization. Whatever or whoever devised the phenomenon, the King’s Highway took him once more in the general direction he needed to go.
Through the first fresh-plowed field on the way, the soft dirt made a nice change from the rocky steel tracks, but by the end of the second, it grew old, and he was glad to get back on level clear ground on the green corridor. Shame the roads weren’t safe.
Cooper stopped at the next intersection with a paved street, and the next. After that, Jackson lost track. His legs burned. His sore back ached. And he was sure he had at least three new blisters. His brother stopped at another road, this one gravel. Jackson joined him and the others. Across the dirt road, tucked in behind several trees, a big house and barn sat just off the high-lines. He pulled out the pistol.
“Everyone stay here. I’ll be right back.”
McKenzie grabbed his arm. “Be careful.”
He patted her hand then gently removed it. “Always.”
Jogging across the street, he worked his way to the barn and eased in through a side door that stood open. He pulled a candle out and lit it. A tractor with a big shredder hooked to it sat in the middle undisturbed, but other stuff had been thrown around. Place looked ransacked. He stepped back to the door and blew out the candle.
After his eyes adjusted, he trotted to the house. The back door hung crooked on only one hinge. He stepped inside and lit the candle again. Cabinet doors gaped with nothing to keep covered on their empty shelves. The fridge, too, stood wide open. Trash littered the floor and most surfaces. The bangers—or someone—had been there.
Slipping out, he joined the others. “No one’s around. Seems to be a good place to hole up for the day and get some sleep.” He held his hand out to McKenzie. She took it, and he pulled her to her feet. He got mad at her some, but couldn’t remember any reason he’d ever hated her over.
For a girl, she’d been a real trooper since the flash. A wave of brotherly love washed over him. No doubt, he’d love her forever. Same with Cooper.
Maybe that was how Aria felt about her brothers, but they were all gone. She had watched them be murdered. If that had happened to him, if he’d been forced to watch someone kill his siblings… Maybe he judged her too harshly about being bloodthirsty.
Thinking about the Latino beauty brought him back to what she’d said.
What was up with that? Saying she hated and loved him? He remembered hearing something somewhere about love and hate being close. Was it because of the passion both emotions enlisted? His parents didn’t have that kind of relationship. Meems and Pop for sure never said they hated each other.
And why had she said she loved him?
That question nagged at him through the canned stew with crackers breakfast. He tried not to look at her, but almost every time he glanced her direction, she watched him. And when she wasn’t, every time, she looked over and caught him staring. Then to make things worse, she smiled at him and held up her hand.
“Jackson, would you mind changing my bandage before we go to sleep?”
Uh oh. Though he expected some kind of reaction from Al and took a quick look his direction, the nerd acted like it was no big deal. He’d already discussed it with his sister and she’d claimed she’d vomit then faint, so the chore fell to him by default. Not that he hated to do it….
Each time he touched Aria, little volts of electricity or whatever made the tingle, ran from her skin to his heart. Did doctors feel that way? Had Al? Was it love? Man, he needed to talk with his dad or at least Pop.
Had either of them ever had someone like Aria in their lives?
He carefully took off the gauze. “Wow, it’s looking so much better. McKenzie, come see. I think you could handle this fine.”
“Forgetaboutit, Jackson. I am not called to be a nurse. I admire those who are, but guts and blood and pus are not for me.”
Shaking her head, Aria smiled again.
After smearing a liberal squeeze of antibiotic ointment on the cleaned wound, he put a new bandage on then taped it off. “There. How does it feel? It’s really healing good.”
She rubbed her hand over it then touched his arm, sending more sparks. “Thank you. It is feeling better every day.” Her eyes held his and he could see deep into her, the pain and frustration. She was afraid, too. “And to think of what would have happened if you hadn’t come along.” A tear slipped from the corner of her eye.
He stood. “Okay, then. I’ll take the first watch. Who wants the second?”
Al held his hand in the air like they were in school, and Jackson was the teacher. “Me, I guess.”
McKenzie smiled at the brainiac and nodded. “Go ahead and get me up, too. It’s easier to stay awake with someone to talk to. Aria and I will be in the back bedroom.”
Al glanced at her as though a little insulted…like she thought he couldn’t handle it himself…but he must have seen something in her peepers that changed his mind. He turned back. “Two pairs of eyes may be superlative, and I definitely appreciate an engaging conversation with your sister anytime, sir.”
Cooper jumped up. “I’ll keep Aria company. We’ll take the third watch, so you wake me up, Al, when y’all are ready to lay back down.”
Aria glanced at Jackson, shrugged, and gave him a little grin.
Boggs finished licking the big can’s insides while the little kids bedded down. He noted the rooms that each chose then joined Jackson outside. The biggest boy positioned himself between the two buildings with his back against the larger one, a good guard place. He liked Cooper’s big brother, especially the way he took care of the little ones.
He still didn’t understand why the boy let that bad man live. Seemed maybe akin to his master not wanting him to kill or even chase those nasty coyotes; except the wild ones weren’t evil. But that man who tried to steal the new girl, nothing but malicious; his eyes showed only wickedness with no mercy or kindness in them at all.
Boggs lay next to the boy’s leg and closed his eyes, allowing himself a quick catnap. Jackson would stay awake for a while with no problem. He sniffed with one then the other nostril; made note of exactly what that place smelled like then drifted off. Sooner then expected, Jackson’s breathing slowed then took on the sleep rhythm.
The knowledge pulled Boggs closer to awareness, but he could still rest and keep his nose on alert.
The sun peeked over the smaller building, the one the kids called a barn, and brought Boggs fully awake. He liked its warmth, but its brightness meant more danger. Men prowled some at night, but nothing like the marauding they did during the day. He stood and glanced at the boy.
If anyone saw him, it would be hard to tell he was asleep, leaning there against the building with his hand wrapped around the pistol.
Boggs decided he’d circle around, check things out. Get eyes on whatever might be out there. Who knew? Maybe his master might come and bring some of that great tasting roasted meat. It’d be great to know exactly what animal that was. It tasted a lot like chicken, but better. Then again, maybe it wasn’t meat at all.
Whatever it was, it sure didn’t take much to fill him up, and it gave him so much energy. Maybe the next time his master came, he should save some for Cooper.
Halfway through his perimeter search, a foul odor stopped him. A good ways to the east, a fume rode on the morning breeze, one he hated so much. He followed his nose. Exactly where he figured. A paw full of those flying whirly machines sat in a semi-circle with their open backs toward a building.
Men who all wore the same clothes loaded sacks from the warehouse into the helicopters. The big transport birds had brought so
much death to his old home. If he could, he would tear the throats out of every one of the soldiers and chew on their whirlybirds until they could never fly again, but he was smarter than that.
Some of those men who stood around held high-powered rifles and watched, searched for someone, anyone who dared to try something stupid.
No. Boggs learned his lesson a long time ago.
He would never act stupid again.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Her warm moist lips pressed against his. Jackson reached for Aria, but she wasn’t there. He opened his eyes. Outside? He glanced down at his hand. The pistol rested in his lap, and realization flooded his soul. He preferred the dream, but would he ever allow himself the pleasure of a relationship with the beautiful dark-skinned girl?
Did he even want one? He smiled at himself and snickered. If dreams meant anything, apparently he did.
Rhythmic whoops pulled him from his contemplations. He stood. Off to the east, five big helicopters rose into the sky. Like the others he’d seen near Grand Prairie, they all carried the Soviet’s sickle and hammer brand. For a second, they hovered then dipped their noses east and flew away like a swarm of wasps. He allowed himself a breath. What were they doing?
Shortly, Boggs trotted into view. He’d forgetten about the dog. Last he remembered, the animal lay next to him. He couldn’t believe he’d gone to sleep while he was supposed to be standing guard or that the dog hadn’t waked him. Maybe he should never have sat down at all. That’s probably why they called it standing guard.
He patted his leg. Boggs joined him, and he rubbed the animal’s head. “You been checking out those bad Russians?”
The Pyrenees banged his tail against Jackson’s leg. He knelt beside him and scruffled his fur along his back with vigor. It was almost like he was answering the question. “What? Ten whacks means yes, fifteen no? You’re such a good boy.”
The dog’s tail beat harder.
Jackson laughed. “Sure would be great if you could talk.”
Of course the animal couldn’t. Jackson eased inside. If he had it right, the others had only been down for a couple of hours. Since he’d caught some rest, he’d let them sleep a while longer. He poked around the kitchen a bit, but didn’t find anything useful. Next, he moved to the den. A big screen TV still attached to the wall, spoke of the new reality.
Who would want to carry off a useless piece of electronics? The gun cabinet? A whole ’nother matter. It had been totally emptied just like the kitchen cabinets. Not even a spent shell remained. Same as not even a can of kidney beans got left. He hated the big, tough, dark red beans.
He checked out the few books still on the shelves. Nothing he wanted to read, but McKenzie might find one or two, but then she’d loaded up at the school, too. Even talked Al and Cooper into carrying a couple each for her. Jackson tiptoed down the hall. The girls were curled up in the master bedroom’s big four poster.
His little brother and Al had taken the room across the hall.
Two more bedrooms held nothing of interest, then right next to the closet housing the furnace, a steel door was locked. It had a few dings and scrapes like the bangers had tried to open it, but they must have decided it wasn’t worth the effort. He thought on it a minute then came to the same conclusion.
For sure it wasn’t worth waking the others up, beating on it, but still, maybe before they left….
Soon, he tired of poking around the house and moseyed out to the barn. Whoever had ransacked the place hadn’t been real interested in the barn. Most of the tools and other stuff rested just as the owner must have left them. A shadow crept over his soul. These folks had such a nice place and great stuff, but they’d high-tailed it and left it all.
Granted, most of it was worthless then, but how many hours had someone worked to pay for the huge tractor that would no longer run? And even if it could, where would a farmer get the fuel for it?
If Al was right, and the power wouldn’t ever be back on, and the Russians looted the country every day… What exactly could they be after? Sending five big transport helicopters out there to the boonies to get what? That question bounced around for a bit, but it seemed only one answer made any sense.
Grain. Or maybe beef. For sure, food of some kind, probably the grain.
If it had been cows, he would have heard them, wouldn’t he? Man, there was so much he didn’t know, that he needed to. Why hadn’t he paid more attention in school?
A soft whistle pulled him around. McKenzie stood in the door. “Hey.”
“You get any sleep?”
“Yeah, a little, but Aria isn’t a very good bed partner. She kept rolling over and kicking out. Since I was awake, I finally decided to just get up.” She glanced toward the sky. “It seems to be about our turn to be on watch anyway.”
“You get Al up?”
“Not yet.” She looked around. “Where do you think we should be?”
“Doesn’t matter, really. Boggs will let you know if there’s something out there.”
“You’re right about that. Is he the biggest blessing or what? We never could have had him at the apartment, but when we really needed a humongous guard dog, God sent us such a great one.”
“Yeah, right. The big guy in the sky sent him. How can you believe that if there is a supreme being, he would care about whether or not we had a dog?” He held both hands out. “It’s so ludicrous, Sis, and you’re usually of such a sound mind.”
“Of course He cares! About every need we have! It’s called faith, Brother, and you need some.” She shook her head and walked back toward the house. “I’ll get Al.”
McKenzie didn’t ask, and Jackson didn’t offer the revolver before he slipped into the bed that Al had just vacated. Seemed to him that he needed to know where their only weapon was at all times. At this particular time, it would rest under his pillow with his hand wrapped around the grip.
If the guys could only see him now.
He tried to remember what life was like before, but it all seemed like a hundred years ago. Wonder what his friends were doing. Did they have their parents to take care of them? Probably, but what could it matter, he’d never see them again. He bet they’d never believe he had four other people he was totally responsible for.
He slipped into a shallow doze, but knew when Cooper got up. He neither stirred nor opened an eye, just kept on lying there. McKenzie had promised to get him up if she decided to catch another nap. The doze slipped a bit deeper, into a blissful blackness that carried no accountability and no hard decisions.
But then too soon, the touch of the revolver’s cold blue steel brought him back to his reality. He rolled out of bed, painfully aware he was several thousand calories short of his daily requirement. Man, a Whataburger with double meat and cheese, fries, and a vanilla shake sure would get him going.
Then maybe a fat slice of apple pie with a big tall glass of milk.
He chuckled to himself; a can of sardines with some pecans on the road would have to do.
The others all sat around in the den. Al and Cooper played chess on a real board, while both Aria and McKenzie read books. Though Boggs was nowhere to be seen, Jackson knew he remained on the job. If he could, he’d buy the dog a Whataburger, or three.
“You guys eat?”
His sister marked her place. “No, not yet, figured we’d all eat together.”
Cooper jumped to his feet. “Hey, I found a key ring, and one of them fits that locked door in the hall, but McKenzie said to wait for you.”
“Cool, we’ll check it out after we eat something.” He faced his sister. “What are you thinking, hot or cold? I can light a fire. There’s an old grill in the barn.”
“I say hot, but no need for you to go to all that trouble. The stove works.”
“You serious?”
“Propane.” She smiled. “And I found some spaghetti, too, way in the back of a drawer.”
“Want to fix that and open the can of chicken to put in it?”
&n
bsp; Cooper raised his hand. “Ooh, how about the pork and beans to go with it?”
“Let’s save those.” Jackson hated going though two of the giant cans they’d brought from the school, but canned chicken with spaghetti sounded so dry. “What could you make a sauce out of?”
Al raised his hand. “We found a jar of tomatoes, sir. Those who preceded us either didn’t care for the acidic fruit or either simply overlooked them. They were in the pantry’s floor under some junk.”
“Excellent. There wasn’t a loaf of French bread and a stick of butter hiding with them, was there?” Jackson smiled.
The nerd returned his mirth, then shook his head. “Regrettably, no.”
His little brother rubbed his hands together. “Yea! I love spussketti!”
While the girls, McKenzie mostly, got supper going, Jackson hauled water from the swimming pool. It was a bit green, but after straining it through a piece of bed sheet, he put it on the stove to boil. Al touched his arm then nodded toward the outside. Jackson shrugged and followed him out the door.
The boy pulled out the moon chart. “Sir, it appears we may soon encounter a slight predicament.”
“How so?”
“Moonrise isn’t until ten-sixteen, and as you can see, it’s waning fast. It persists in rising later and later each night.”
“Shouldn’t affect us too much. If I’ve got it figured right, we only have another fifty miles or so.”
“Exactly where are we going, sir? I mean I know to your grandparents’ home, but –”
“Honey Grove. It’s a little west of Paris off Highway Eighty-two. Their place is a ways out of town.”
The nerd looked around then leaned in close. “Sir, I have a confession.”
Jackson eyed Al hard. Had something happened behind his back with McKenzie? “What have you done?”
“Nothing, sir. It’s only that, as a man of honor, I desire to inform you that, well, I am quite enamored with your sister.”
“Okay.” Jackson stretched the ‘O’. “I knew that.”