Backwoods Armageddon

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Backwoods Armageddon Page 7

by Roquet, Angela


  They’d brought three other strangers along, and Granny was immediately suspicious of them. Especially the old black man with the shiny hat. He gave her an appraising look, like maybe she’d planned the natural disaster just to con her family into a visit. The nurse and her son seemed a bit hoity, but they were nice enough.

  Granny turned around and looked back at the scrap pile where her house had been. “Well, looks like y’all ’er stuck with me now.”

  Lilly wrapped an arm around Granny’s shoulder. “And here I was thinkin’ you were gonna be stuck with us. Tornaders hit our place too.”

  There had been tornado warnings all month, but Granny had stopped paying attention to them. She had a basement, and she was just sure she’d hear one coming if it was heading her way. Maybe she’d had the TV up too loud. Or maybe it had just been a really good episode, she thought, wondering if that school teacher had ended up winning the fancy car. The power had gone out right as Pat Sajak was about to open the prize card.

  Sissy nuzzled in on Granny’s other side. “And then the earthquakes jacked up the dams and washed everything away, including Hurricane Deck, right after we crossed it,” she added breathlessly.

  Granny raised an eyebrow at Lilly. “Maybe yer not prayin’ hard enough.”

  A howl cut through the woods, and it put a tingle up her spine. The coyotes were coming in closer this year, though there seemed to be less of them. There were rumors of mountain lions, ever since the Nicks’ dogs had been found flayed open like a couple of catfish down by the creek. Granny had never really worried about them when she had a safe home to lock herself in at night.

  “We should start a campfire.” Lester said, glancing around the small patch of yard that pushed out to meet the surrounding woods.

  Ricky nodded. “I’ll find some kindling.”

  “I’ll help.” Sissy followed him around to the front of the lot where more limbs had been shook loose from the trees.

  The nurse’s son started breathing heavy, and Granny wondered if the kid was afraid of the dark, or maybe dogs. Ernie ran circles around him, yapping so hard she thought his little face might fall right off. When the mutt tired of that, he hopped up on his hind legs and began humping Parker’s shin.

  The nurse dug an inhaler out of her pocket and shoved it in the boy’s mouth. When he could breathe again, he glared at Junior, who had fallen on the ground in a fit of giggles.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Junior squealed. “Ya gonna let him finish? It ain’t like he’s a Rott. Kick’em off already.”

  Parker gave his leg a shake, and Ernie tore off to run laps around the yard. He cruised by the campsite every so often for a bite of jerky from Junior.

  Granny set her couch cushion down on a log and made herself comfortable. Old Man Johnson sat down a few feet away, groaning as his knees folded. He gave her a nod, though the curious look of accusation hadn’t left his face. A prissy little fluff of a cat poked her head up out of a backpack across his chest and glanced around the yard. A soft growl rumbled through her and she hissed before ducking back inside.

  Lester and Ricky finally got a fire started, and Lilly fixed up a few sticks up with some hotdogs. Junior helped her roast them over the fire, slipping bits to Ernie when she wasn’t looking. Sissy brought a guitar out of the camper and picked out a few songs, while Ricky crooned along out of key.

  Callie opened a grocery sack full of snack cakes and passed one to Granny. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to take a look at your legs? Those scratches could get infected,” she said, eyeing the fuzzy pink slippers.

  Granny shrugged. “Nah. I’ll just rub a little dirt on ’em.”

  Ernie’s yaps at the edge of the yard broke off and he yipped out a startled snarl. A low grumble answered, and everyone jumped up.

  “Ernie!” Junior took off, disappearing from the ring of light around the campfire.

  “Boy, git yer ass back here,” Lester shouted.

  Ricky snatched a machete he’d propped against the camper and tore after him.

  Granny’s guts twisted around the snack cake she’d eaten. She stood and clutched the couch cushion to her chest, squinting into the darkness. The beast growled again.

  Lilly clung to Sissy’s arm, holding the girl back as she struggled to see the commotion. The growling turned into a full on battle cry, and Granny couldn’t tell if Ricky’s screams were of victory or farewell.

  Chapter 8

  Sissy couldn’t catch her breath. She wondered if Parker would loan her his inhaler. Maybe that would help. Her heart didn’t start beating again until Junior and Ricky stumbled back into sight.

  Ricky’s pant leg was shredded. He had the machete in one hand and the scruff of Junior’s neck in the other. Ernie tagged along beside them like he’d just saved the day. Every hair along his back was at full attention. Ricky looked like he wanted to kick the grin right off the damn dog’s face.

  Lester had run back to the camper for his rifle, but he lowered it when he saw Junior. Ricky shoved him down on a log and plopped down next to him. It was all Sissy could do not to crawl into Ricky’s lap and smother him with kisses.

  Callie grabbed the first aid kit and dug out the iodine while Ricky rolled up his pant leg. There were four long scratches along his calf.

  “Dadgum mountain lion,” he groaned. “I poked her good, but she got away.”

  Lester put the rifle over his shoulder and began pacing along the outer edge of the camp, glaring out into the woods. “Well, we cain’t stay here then.”

  Lilly yawned and shook her head. “We hafta sleep, Les. The camper’s got beds, don’t it?”

  Lester sighed and began counting on his fingers. “We’re all about to get awful friendly.”

  After Callie patched up Ricky’s leg, they scarfed down the hotdogs and snack cakes before piling into the RV. The booths and the bench seat folded out into beds, but there were nine of them in all. They wouldn’t fit, not even crammed in like sardines.

  Lilly cut off everyone’s tired bickering and assigned the sleeping arrangements. Sissy found herself on the bench bed with Lilly and Granny. The nurse and her son got the bed where the dinette had been, and Ricky gave up the driver’s seat to Old Man Johnson so he could stretch out in front of the refrigerator. He lay his head down toward the beds. Sissy leaned over the edge and winked at him.

  Junior curled up with Ernie on the floor between the front seats. He used Granny’s couch cushion as a pillow. Old Man Johnson’s cat complained, but Ernie was too spent to yap back at her.

  “Think ya could make me one a them hats?” Junior said mid-yawn.

  Old Man Johnson raised a furry eyebrow. “The way you chased after that dog, I don’t think ya got much in that head a yers to be hidin’ from nobody.”

  Sissy snorted, but Junior didn’t seem to catch the slight.

  “I bet that mountain lion woulda been right scared if I’d been wearin’ one a them. I’d like one fer Ernie too,” he said, scratching his butt.

  Sissy rolled her eyes and made sure everyone had dozed off before turning back over to look down at Ricky. His eyes were closed, and his mouth gaped open as he snored. He’d been playing hero all day, so she forgave him for conking out before whispering sweet nothings to her. She’d make him pay up tomorrow.

  Sissy had been praying not to die a virgin since she was fifteen. When her prayer had been answered by Ricky the day after her seventeenth birthday, Sissy had the good sense to keep right on praying. Her mother was oblivious about plenty, but one thing she did pay attention to was prayers.

  Ricky had been too stoned to care about consequences when he took Sissy’s virginity in the bed of her daddy’s truck. The thing hadn’t been due for an oil change for another five hundred miles, but Sissy knew enough about engines to drain a quart out of the oil pan so the thing would start knocking. She paid attention when she brought the truck in for Ricky to work on, and not just to his butt.

  They weren’t officially a couple. Sissy didn
’t go around talking about Ricky the way the girls at school talked about their college boyfriends. It wasn’t that she was ashamed to be seen with a drop-out, especially now that it looked like she wouldn’t be finishing high school either. She just didn’t want the rumor to find its way back to her parents.

  Ivy Mills was as small as small towns came. Plus, her daddy was too good a shot to take that kind of chance with Ricky’s life. Her ma wouldn’t even have enough time to pray for the angels to take him up to heaven. Sissy had convinced Ricky that it should be their little secret for now.

  Before the sun rose the next morning, an aftershock rattled them all awake. Hail peppered the windshield, and a streak of lightening flashed behind the trees.

  Lester tried to tune in the radio, but all he could find were emergency tones and static. Even the robotic recordings had abandoned the airwaves. Once the beds had been made up, he began pacing down the aisle.

  “We got another storm underway, but I ain’t got half a clue what direction we need ta be goin’.”

  Granny scratched her head. “We ain’t got nothin’ keepin’ us here, and the country’s fallin’ apart. Maybe we oughta just head south ’til we get to the gulf and hop a boat outta here.”

  Old Man Johnson sighed and cranked up the scanner he totted around like a beacon. He found one of the local police channels, and everyone leaned in to listen over the sound of hail and thunder.

  All units report back to the station. The feds are here with new orders to be implemented after this storm clears.

  The channel went quiet again, and Old Man Johnson twisted the knob around until he found more chatter.

  67 to 48.

  Go ahead 67.

  I’m seeing quite a few fatigues and heavy hardware. I turned my radio down to deal with this last 5150. Did I miss something?

  The feds are in. Head back to the station.

  Old Man Johnson rocked in his seat. “That’s code for somethin’. I’m sure of it. It’s almost time.”

  “Time for what?” Junior asked.

  Lester stood and headed up to the driver’s seat. “Time for us ta git the hell outta here.”

  “Where are we gonna go?” Lilly followed him, ringing her hands in her apron.

  “Hell, I don’t know. Guess we’ll let yer ma point the way fer now.”

  Granny perked up. “There’s some good campin’ just south a here, across the border into Arkansas.”

  “Great,” Lester snapped, firing up the RV.

  Sissy huddled up on the bench seat and pulled her knees up under her chin. From her spot, she had a perfect view of Ricky in the passenger seat, but with her daddy sitting next to him in the driver’s seat, he didn’t steal many glances back in her direction.

  Old Man Johnson acted like he’d had a coffee enema for breakfast. He hummed and talked to his cat while he crinkled some foil together from a roll he pulled out of the backpack.

  “Oh, we’re getting close now, Spock,” he whispered.

  The cat blinked her yellow eyes at him and let out a confused meow.

  “Oh, yes,” he continued, “We’re chosen. The mother ship’s a waitin’ in Arkansas. I can feel it.”

  Junior pulled the foil hat down over his ears and began chasing Ernie through the camper like a rhinoceros. The dog yapped and panted, then paused to hump Parker’s leg when he broke into another asthma attack.

  Old Man Johnson made another hat, and when no one else would take it, Parker tried it on and snarled at Ernie.

  “Do we get ta ride on the mother ship too?” Junior asked.

  Old Man Johnson’s nostrils flared. “I cain’t speak on behalf of the Martians, but I reckon I could put in a good word fer ya,” he added, seeing Junior’s crestfallen face.

  Sissy tried to pluck at her guitar, but the back roads they stayed on were no good for love songs. What she really wanted to do was pull Ricky into the bathroom and interrogate him. Maybe in the nude.

  But more than that, she needed to know that he still wanted her, and she needed to know what they were running from. The worry creased over his face made her think that he’d heard something more than what the voices on the scanner had said.

  Around noon, smoke began to slip up from under the hood of the RV.

  “Well, shit fire. Guess we better find somewhere to pull off so I can take a looksee.” Ricky leaned over Lester’s shoulder and glanced down at the gauges on the dash.

  “There’s a little lake just ’round this bend,” Granny said, pointing out the window. “Campsite ain’t been used much since some kid got ate up by a bear.”

  “Jus’ need a tiger and we’ll have us a full deck.” Sissy rolled her eyes.

  They didn’t see any bears when the camper rolled down into the campgrounds, but there was a shelter house with a rusty barbeque grill. The hail had fizzled into a light sprinkle, so Sissy grabbed her guitar and propped herself up on one of the picnic tables under the shelter. The paint chips scratched at her legs, and someone had scrawled their initials across one of the boards.

  Ricky came out of the camper scratching his head. “Looks like there’s a leak in the radiator. Need ta let ’er cool off ’fore I dump some more water in there.”

  “How long we lookin’ at?” Lester frowned.

  “Well, boss. I could have ’er up and runnin’ again within an hour, I spose.”

  Junior stopped chasing after Ernie and groaned. “How long we gonna be cooped up in that thang?”

  “Why can’t we just stay here fer the night? It looks safe enough, and we could all use a breather after yesterday,” Lilly said.

  She fetched a bag from the camper and passed out the rest of the sandwiches and Gatorade. Junior peeled the bread apart and added a layer of jerky to his sandwich, while Old Man Johnson cracked open a can of beans and tried to share them with Spock. She turned her nose up at him, but took the bit of salami Parker picked off his sandwich and offered her.

  Lester chewed his lunch with a frown. “I guess we could take off again in the mornin’, but we should sleep in the camper again. Not interested in bein’ no bear’s dinner.”

  “Speakin’ a dinner.” Lilly curled her nose up. “You best finish fixin’ up them squirrels. Unless you’d like to eat candy bars an’ trail mix.”

  At the mention of the squirrels, Callie stopped eating her sandwich and wrapped it back up to save for later. Lester noticed and had a good laugh.

  “I gots some freeze-dried food from the pawn shop, if you ain’t fond a wild game,” he said.

  Callie’s face didn’t improve, and she went ahead and took her sandwich back to the camper.

  The sun finally came out, and besides the mild rumble of another aftershock, the day was pretty nice. Lilly, Callie, and Granny flipped through the photo album, and Lester sniffed out some mushrooms growing further down the campgrounds, where Junior and Parker ran out some pent up energy in their matching foil hats.

  Old Man Johnson napped under a tree with Spock, and Ricky fixed up the camper radiator with some pepper. Sissy thought it was entirely too clever. She stole a kiss in the front seat when no one was looking.

  Lilly made up a batch of squirrel stew with grilled mushrooms for dinner. Everyone gave it a try, except for the nurse and her son. Callie finished her leftover sandwich, and Parker ate a bag of trail mix, after nearly choking on one of the freeze dried MREs.

  When night fell and they all crammed themselves back in the camper, Sissy reached down and pinched Ricky. “Doncha dare fall asleep on me again tonight,” she whispered. “I got plans fer ya.”

  Ricky rubbed his arm, but he nodded at her with a nervous grin.

  When everyone had dozed off, the two of them slipped out of the camper and snuck back through the tall grasses surrounding the lake. They found a nice tree and settled in under it.

  Ricky pulled a bag of weed and a pack of cherry flavored papers out of his pocket. He looked up and gave Sissy a crooked smile as he unwrapped the papers. “Swiped these back at the gas stati
on, right under yer ma’s nose,” he said, twisting up a joint.

  Sissy giggled and dug a zippo out of her pocket. She tossed it in his lap. “I got this at the station too. Just fer you.”

  The zippo had a picture of a hot rod on it. Her ma would have killed her dead if she knew she had stolen it. Never mind that she had ordered her to relieve the place of all its snacks and Gatorade, like she thought God would frown less on her sins for all the praying she did.

  Ricky lit the joint and took a long drag before passing it to Sissy. She gave it a timid suck, but still ended up coughing herself silly afterwards. When she caught her breath, she passed the joint back and frowned at him.

  “Why’d them men on the radio freak you and Daddy out so bad?”

  “The feds most likely mean we’re lookin’ at martial law,” he said tightly, holding a hit in.

  “So? What’s that mean?”

  Ricky tilted his head, like he was surprised she didn’t know, and she felt stupid for asking.

  “It means they gonna be kickin’ in peoples’ doors and takin’ their guns. And they ain’t gonna be lettin’ nobody in or outta towns.”

  Sissy wrapped her arms around her knees and nodded. It sounded a lot like being grounded, and after the way people were behaving in Ivy Mills, she kinda thought they might deserve it. Still, she was glad they were long gone.

  When Ricky snubbed the joint out, Sissy straddled his legs and pulled his face into hers. He slid his hands up her shirt, and she felt a tightness building low in her stomach.

  The night was warm, and their bodies were already damp from the sticky steam that rose up from the lake. The moon peeked around the clouds and spilled through gaps in the branches above them.

  When Sissy came up for air, her eyes glowed in the dark. She leaned in close and her breath curled around Ricky’s neck, making him shiver.

  “Did you hear that?” She looked out over the lake.

  A pinprick of light pulsed and bobbed along the shoreline before flicking over the water and hissing as it went out.

 

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