Under the Gray Skies

by Jacqueline Druga

  “We have four miles to the next town,” Stone said. “We’ll take it slow and head there.”

  I swear I held my breath those four miles. But there was no town right off the exit, only what I believed was a secondary road with the town another eight miles.

  We had pushed it far longer than I would have. Hours beyond the moment it got dark. Stone claimed he used his instincts and the map to gauge the way of the road.

  It was sheer luck until a deer darted out across the road. We skid on the ash trying to stop and nipped its hind end.

  My heart pounded out of my chest.

  “Shut it down,” Callie ordered. “We’ll bunk in the truck.”

  “We have nearly ten hours until daylight. What the hell are we gonna do.”

  “Eat, sleep, she can write in her notebook, I don’t care. We stop for the night.” Callie looked out the window.

  “Want to set up camp?” Stone asked.

  “Where?” Callie lifted her hands. “Do you see anything out there? Maybe if we stopped when I wanted to, two hours ago, when there was a hint of light, we could have. Right now ... I can’t see if there’s even a fucking tree. No. it’s safer in the truck. We bunk in here.”

  “Safer from what?” Stone asked.

  She only shook her head in disgust.

  I looked over at Madison. “These two fight like a married couple,” I whispered.

  “Tell me about it. It’s entertaining,” Madison whispered as well.

  “Are you guys thinking we can’t hear you?” Callie asked.

  With four people in the Humvee, it was actually pretty warm. Stone kept the engine running for a little bit, then shut it off and told us to deal with it. We ate cold MRE’s and talked very little. Madison seemed to drift away in thought, then as the night wound down, I began to write in my notebook. I wrote a note to my son, then husband and finally my daughter.

  ‘Jana,’ I wrote to her. ‘Well, right now we are sitting in the middle of a road. I don’t know if it’s a side street, major roadway or what. It is so dark ….’

  “Hey,” Madison nudged me. “I have to go pee.”

  “Okay, hold on, I’ll go with you.”

  “No, I’m fine, I’ll be right outside the door.”

  Callie mumbled. “Take the light.”

  “I’m not nuts,” Madison said. “And I don’t feel like peeing on myself.”

  She grabbed the small lantern and opened the door. I had been writing with the dim flashlight and my eyes had adjusted. When the interior light came on, I felt like it blinded me. I wished she would have left the door open, but she didn’t. I suppose she wanted privacy.

  I returned to my writing. The glow from her lantern carried into the Humvee.

  Back to Jana, ‘The ash has given everything a sound proofing. It’s really weird. The two soldiers taking us are not very talkative. I guess they have …’

  I stopped because I couldn’t see. Was my flashlight growing even dimmer?

  Just as I hit it against my hand, I realized, not only was my flashlight dying, Madison’s lantern was out. There was no light coming from outside.

  “Shit,” I said and reached for the car door.

  “What is it?” Callie asked.

  “Her light went out.” I tried shining my flashlight through the window, but it only came back at me and then it died.

  I reached again for the handle and opened the door slightly. I figured her lantern had burned out and there she was peeing in the dark. The interior light would help her.

  “Madison,” I called out.

  Nothing.

  “Madison.”

  Slam!

  The Humvee door was shoved closed and I jumped back with a shriek.

  “Oh my God.”

  “Stay put,” Callie stated.

  I could hear her and Stone grabbing weapons, they both opened the doors at the same time and jumped out.

  Inside I could see their flashlight beams dancing against the black. My heart beat a million times a minute. Where was Madison? Fearful and alone, I opened the door and stepped out.

  “I told you to stay in there,” Callie said.

  It was cold and I folded my arms close to my body. “Why aren’t you calling for her?”

  “Shh.” Callie instructed.

  I inched closer to her, standing next to Callie. I wanted to see what she saw. She was facing the back end of the Humvee, Stone facing forward. Both of them scanned the darkness with their spotlights.

  Then I heard it, I believe we all heard it. It sounded like a muffled grunt. Quickly, Callie pulled out her pistol, engaged the chamber and with it aimed outward and ready in one hand, she held the spot light in the other. Both hands close, she was focused.

  She shifted the beam left and right. Even dark, I could see the intensity on her face, the glow in her eyes from the reflection of the beam. She didn’t blink.

  Left, right, she moved it. It merely looked like she was shining the light on a black wall.

  “Stone,” Callie said. “It’s coming from back here. Hit the big lights.”

  “Roger that,” Stone said.

  Left, Right.

  Where was Madison? Why weren’t they calling out? What was taking the spotlights so long? He needed to just flip that switch on the dash.

  Left, right, dark, nothing.

  A man.

  Just as she moved the light to the left again, the figure of a man was there and taking Callie by surprise he sailed in a punch that knocked the big woman off balance and flying back. Her spot light flew from her grip, shooting a stream of light over the ash. I heard the grunts, the struggles, and the sound of fist hitting flesh.

  “Stone!” I called out.

  He didn’t answer. What happened to Stone? With Madison missing, Callie attacked, it made sense something happened with him, as well.

  A wave of panic smacked me, and I had to get it together. Think. Think. I moved back quickly, felt for the vehicle and whipped open the back door for light.

  Immediately, I saw Callie and a man entangled in a fight. He was on top of her and although she fought back, she couldn’t break free. She pushed with one hand while desperately extending the other.

  Her gun.

  She was reaching for her pistol.

  The interior light illuminated the weapon and I charged forth for it, snatching it from the ash. It was still engaged.

  Even with my hands shaking, I aimed outward, but they rolled in their battle, from the golden hue of the interior light into blackness.

  The spotlight. The interior light only lit up so much, the big lights on the Humvee would brighten a circumference.

  I hurriedly, back up for the Humvee, turned and reached for the driver’s door. When I did, my foot hit against something.

  ‘Oh God,’ I thought. I didn’t need to look down, I didn’t want to look down, I knew it was a body.

  Opening the door as fast as I could added more light and I saw Stone laying on the ground by the door. I closed my eyes tightly, and blindly reached in, feeling for that switch. Once my finger touched it, I turned it on and the area lit up. I spun around for a full charge back to Callie, when a man, another man, stepped before me.

  I didn’t breathe, move or panic, I just fired the weapon. He was so close, I couldn’t miss. The shot hit him center chest, and the force of the close range gunshot, sent him down to the ground.

  It was an instant pause on everything.

  The assailant over Callie, had his hands on her throat and he looked up in shock at the sound.

  The second his head raised, I fired again.

  That moment when he fell to the side and Callie rolled him from her and sat up … that moment, I shook. Every part of me shook. No amount of crisis training at work, monthly required classes at the range, simulated sieges of our office, none of that shit prepared me for that moment.

  Good or bad men, I took two lives.

  Two.

  The pistol toppled from my hand, my knees weakene
d, and just as Callie coughed and stood, I saw her.

  Madison.

  Where the glow of the spotlight met the dark, Madison was huddled on her hands and knees.

  Callie approached me. “Thank you. Are you …”

  I didn’t hear what else she said, I raced straight to Madison. I dropped to the ground right by her, sending a cloud of ash into the air.

  “Oh my God,” I said. “Are you okay?”

  She lifted her head, her long hair dangled in her face. Her cheeks were streaked with dirt. It was hard to see how badly she was hurt, but I could see the blood on her lip and running from her nose.

  Frantically she shook her head. “They grabbed me. They …” she spoke through hyperventilated breaths. “They were waiting on you.”

  “How bad are you hurt?” I asked. “Where did they hurt you?” I reached out to her.

  She kept shaking her head, crying.

  I heard the thumping footsteps, and looked up to see Callie.

  “Are there any more?” she asked Madison. “Did you see any more than two men?”

  Madison shook her head.

  “I’ll be back. Stone’s been stabbed. He’s alive. I have to stop the bleeding. How badly are you hurt?”

  “I’ll figure that out,” I said. “Go help Stone.”

  Callie nodded once, backed up and then stopped. “Thank you again, Lacey.” She turned and ran back to the Humvee.

  “Madison …” I reached again to her.

  She pulled back, spun around and resumed her position on her hands and knees. She moved in circles, her hands flung through the ash, and with each swipe of the substance, she sobbed out an aching cry.

  “Madison, what is it? Stop. I need to know if you’re hurt.”

  “I don’t know and I don’t care. Please … please help me,” she looked at me. “Please.”

  “Help you with what?”

  “Help me find it.” She placed her hand on her chest. “They tore off my locket.”

  Hearing that, my heart sunk. The desperation, the crying, they didn’t hurt her physically as much as they killed Madison emotionally. After telling her I’d be right back, I sought out, the working spotlight and joined Madison.

  It didn’t matter how dark it was or how futile the search seemed, I just knew I had to look for that locket with her, until I couldn’t look anymore.

  <><><><>

  Earlier, Stone complained that we would have nothing to do, that the ten hours until daylight would lag. How wrong he was.

  Stone was stabbed in the side, fortunately, the blade hit the flank. Callie put a field dressing on it and gave him some antibiotics. Her biggest concern was the head injury, they had knocked him out. This was all information she conveyed while she tended to him. Once he was stabilized, she came over to us.

  “I need to see if she’s okay,” Callie said. “Madison.”

  We had moved some. Trying to figure out where she was grabbed, how far she was dragged and where exactly the locket came off. It was difficult, because it was still so dark.

  “Can I ask what you’re doing?” Callie asked.

  “Her locket,” I said. “They ripped it from her. It’s very special.”

  “It was all I had left of my daughter,” Madison said. “Her ashes and now it’s lost …” she released a defeated sob. “In the ashes.”

  “Look, you aren’t going to find it out here,” Callie said. “It’s too …”

  “I have to look!” Madison blasted.

  “I know you do. But it’s too dark to see.”

  “We want to find it before you leave,” I said.

  “I won’t leave without it, I won’t. You can go. I can’t leave without it.” Madison kept looking. “It’s all I have left of her. It’s all I have.”

  I expected Callie to say something cold, crass, but instead she surprised me.

  “Then we won’t leave until you find it,” Callie said. “We’ll look again when it’s light and we won’t stop. But come to the truck, let’s check you out, get you some water, clear your head, and as soon as there is any light, I’ll get out there myself and help you look. Deal?”

  Both Madison and I just looked up at her.

  We made the deal. Madison needed a break. She needed to clean her wounds. Her nose was broken, her face full of abrasions, lip split, and it looked like her wrist was in pretty bad shape.

  I saw a different side of Callie. She was still rugged, but she cared.

  It also was obvious to me, she was shaken as well. Not only was Madison’s face a mess, so was Callie’s.

  I offered to help her. She declined, but asked for one of my airline bottles of vodka. I gladly obliged.

  “Where did you learn to shoot like that?” Callie asked.

  “Work,” I said. I handed Madison a bottle. She took it, but kept staring out the window, waiting on the little bit of daylight.

  “Where did you work?” Callie asked.

  “Public housing complex. We dealt a lot with cash and were robbed one month like four times. They decided when a coworker was shot that we needed classes. We had a gun in the office and each of us had to be certified to use it.” I shrugged. “I never thought I would.”

  “I’m glad you did.”

  There wasn’t much talking the remainder of the night. Stone kept falling in and out of consciousness, but he seemed to improve.

  At the first sign of light, Madison raced from the Humvee. Keeping true to her word, on her hands and knees Callie joined us in the search. With some daylight, it was easier, but still, a silver locket buried in ash was a needle in a haystack.

  Finally, hours later, I knew Callie had found it.

  She was by the rear tire on the driver’s side, when she went from her knees to a sitting position, staring at her hand. “Madison,” she called out softly.

  Madison scurried over, and when Callie placed it in her hand, my friend clutched it and sobbed. After a few moments, she uncurled her fingers and showed it to me.

  The chain was gone, probably broken and lost in the scuffle, but the chain wasn’t what was important. The locket was.

  The open locket was more than likely stepped on during the exchange. It was dented and dangling on its hinges. Even though it was damaged, what was important still remained. While the covering on the picture side was cracked, the picture of her daughter was still there, and even more than that, the ashes were undisturbed in their tiny locket size urn.

  We spent hours on the side of the road searching. After it was found, we were able to get moving. I felt horrible for Madison, she couldn’t process that her precious locket had been so badly damaged. It broke my heart to see it.

  We were moving forward on our journey, but I really believed that Madison was going to have a hard time moving passed what had happened. How could she not? A part of her, both physically and emotionally was crushed on the side of the road the night before.

  NOTEBOOK – DAY TWENTY-THREE

  It was a hard day, and before that an even harder night.

  All we can do is move forward.

  Some things are better left unsaid.

  Love

  Mom/Lace

  TWENTY-THREE – BURNED OUT

  Sometime during the night, Sergeant Bill Stone passed away. It was unexpected as we had believed he was holding his own. He didn’t talk much, but he responded when spoken to. We should have known. Despite Callie giving him antibiotics, with the ash and wherever that knife was, his wound was bound to be infected. Plus he suffered a head injury. Stone did tell us he had a headache and his stab wound felt as if it were burning. After finding the locket we only drove for a few hours and pulled over in an abandoned convenience store parking lot to set up camp.

  He drank some water, didn’t eat, and said he just needed to rest.

  I didn’t think twice about it. None of us did.

  With so many people dead, he didn’t need to leave us so senselessly. I was really sad and I felt horrible on so many levels. I didn’t ch
eck on him, offer him more water or see if he needed anything. None of that. I truly did not think his life hung in the balance.

  Poor Stone died alone in that small tent while Callie slept in the truck and I tried to distract Madison by taking her in the store and gathering what we could.

  We went about our business feeling as if we just should let Stone rest.

  No one deserves to die alone

  He did.

  Callie said when she went to wake him his body was already hard, cold and had started to darken. He had been gone for a couple hours.

  There was no way with the ground covered and hard that we could bury him. Even if we found a spot, it wasn’t right. We were two days from the Kansas camp. He was a soldier, he served his country, we’d take him there and hopefully he would get a decent burial. One he deserved. The temperature was low enough. We wrapped Stone in a covering and lay him in the back of the Humvee.

  I asked Callie to tell me about him, more than I had picked up in small conversation. I wanted to add more about Stone in my notebook.

  She didn’t give up much. He was recently divorced, no kids, was one of six children and grew up on a farm in Nebraska.

  I didn’t expect too much from her. Callie was beside herself. She tried to put on this tough act, but I could tell she was heartbroken. They had known each other a long time. This was evident when she complained she wasn’t feeling well and asked if I could drive.

  I was the only one of us three not injured. I gladly took over that job, while she was co pilot, directing and instructing me as I drove through the increasingly ash filled wasteland.

  About an hour before the sky would start to darken, Callie with the map in her hand, said, “The exit for Stone Horse Ridge is about six miles up. We should stop there for the night. I know it’s early, but I’m tired.”

  “I understand,” I said.

  “We’ll still make our Kansas stop day after tomorrow.”

  “That’s fine.” I focused on driving because about twenty miles earlier things started to look different. The feel of the road was rougher as if we drove over rocks, and the ash was darker. The farther we drove, the more everything looked dead. South, at least some of the trees kept their green. Where we were, they were dying, there were no leaves and the temperature dropped drastically.