The Unfolding Blackout (Book 1): A Girl Betrayed

by Aborn, A. L.

  No sense worrying about what ifs… I’ll deal with those when they come.

  The first few miles of the trail are shaded and gloomy, a chill to the air that I hadn’t noticed in the sunshine at the farm. I am somewhat relieved that the first part of the trip is through the forest with no road crossings. The idea of seeing people, or of them seeing me, is the greatest risk. The thing is, I have no way of knowing if they are friend or foe.

  Brad and I had altered my route to decrease my exposure to two major points. It added on a couple extra miles, but I don’t mind. The first point will be crossing from the trail to ride a few hundred feet on Route 31 before crossing the bridge and then back into the safety of the wooded trail beyond. The second point will be following the dirt road around a lake to get to my dad’s neighborhood. My dad and Brandy live in a rural part of town and most of the houses on the lake were owned by summer tourists from Connecticut. Brad and I had decided that since the power went out in January, the chances of anyone being there were much slimmer than by other routes. Still, the thought of riding by all those houses is nerve-wracking.

  As time passes and I neither hear nor see anything out of the ordinary, I start to relax. I am doing this! Beau’s strong muscles flex beneath me, his ears pricked forward as we make our way through the trees. Many of the limbs were sporting new buds. The air, while cool, smelled fresh and earthy.

  Smiling, I watch Meekah exploring the trail. While she had lost a few pounds since we fled our home all those months ago, her coat is still shiny and full. Always the good girl, she stays within twenty feet of Beau, matching our pace either in front or behind.

  I keep an easy pace, letting Beau amble along the trail. By the time the sun is almost overhead, I hear the babbling of water nearby. Dismounting, I lead Beau and Meekah to the clear water just below the trail and let them both drink their fill. Cupping my hands into the cold water, I slurp down a few mouthfuls before throwing Meekah half of a hardboiled egg. She gobbles it greedily and sniffs around for some more while Beau tears a few mouthfuls of fresh greenery from the muddy banks. In what seems like no time, I’m back on Beau with Meekah scouting the path ahead.

  I estimate that we are almost to 31 and, possibly, the most dangerous section of my journey. Rechecking my rifle for what feels like the millionth time, I squeeze Beau with my knees and carry on to my fate.

  ***

  A short while later, I halt Beau with a quiet word and a tug on my makeshift reins. Sensing my unease, Meekah pauses in mid-stride, studying our surroundings. Just ahead, I can make out the black top of Route 31. It runs perpendicular to the trail and I can only see a short stretch. From where I sit, it looks empty of people. Should I get off Beau and lead him? No, what if I have to make a quick getaway? What about Meekah? Should I put her on a leash? Ugh, I just don’t know what the right answer is. Ultimately, I just keep going, resisting the urge to cross my fingers for luck.

  Breathing through my unease, I click my tongue at Beau to get moving. My ears strain for any sound of people. The breeze through the trees at the mouth of the trail that faces the road is all that I can hear. Meekah now seemed unalarmed, sniffing around in the brush. Creeping closer to the shoulder of the pavement, I watch the road in both directions. To my left, the road stretches away into the trees, quickly swallowed by the hilly terrain. A single car, an old, boxy gray sedan faces into the trees on the opposite side of the road. A bit of snow still clung to the crevice between hood and windshield. I guess it’s been there for a while.

  To my right, a bridge, perhaps one hundred fifty feet long, spans a marshy network of streams that are fed by nearby mountain run-off. The call of some type of bird startles me out of my intense observation. Gathering myself, I guide Beau onto the asphalt and toward the bridge. The sound of his hooves is alarmingly loud in the silence. I hope and pray silently to myself that no one is close enough to hear.

  Now fully on the road, I can clearly see the road open up ahead of me. It winds up a hill and into the center of the small town a few miles ahead. I can just make out the church steeple stretching over the treetops. I have no desire to follow that road and discover what’s happened to my childhood stomping grounds. I still can’t see any people, but there are a handful of cars in the road much farther on. Are they blocking the road or had all just stopped there?

  At the end of the bridge, I steer Beau onto the dirt road on the left, feeling relieved that we’ve made it safely through what’s felt like traveling across a stage where the whole world could be watching. Meekah still trots along behind us, quickly following as we turn off the tar road. Immediately to our right, the trail resumes through the woods. I’m eager to regain the much quieter forest floor and hurriedly squeeze Beau to a faster pace.

  We are just over halfway there.

  ***

  This leg of the trail will carry us through the woods to the west of the center of town. Brad and I had hadn’t expected any trouble during this portion of the trip, it was scarcely used in times past. Our expectations proved correct as we make our way through the woods. The occasional squirrel or bird chirps at our intrusion, but I don’t see any sign of people.

  My mind wanders to the town just a few miles distant. Maybe things had gone worse for the townspeople than I thought. Granted, I didn’t want to run into anyone, but it still seemed surprising that I hadn’t.

  A few miles later, the trail intersects with the dirt road that will wrap around the lake and eventually lead me to my dad’s house. Leaving the trail behind is unsettling, but necessary. In one way, I’m happy that there are only a few scant miles separating me from my goal. But in another way, I knew these last few miles could be the most difficult. The narrow dirt lane passes between a row of houses on either side. Mentally, it will be something like walking through the mall naked. On display and vulnerable is not my first choice of travel mode.

  Gritting my teeth and vowing not to push Beau into a gallop in terror, I urge him from the trail onto the hard-packed dirt. Riding at a quick trot, we begin passing the houses ringing the water. I see the lake to my right between the waterfront houses. The houses are as different as the people who own them; some are small and in various states of disrepair while being tightly pressed up to a giant new construction. The winter had been hard on the homes. In some cases, it’s hard to tell whether the damage was due to looters or mother nature. Broken windows and doors adorn several of the buildings and several trees have fallen haphazardly through yards and onto roofs. A few cars remain parked in driveways, but the houses look like empty shells. Suddenly, the hair on Meekah’s back stands up and before I can call her, she darts into the yard of one of the waterfront homes. Nosing around the open door, she growls softly before backing away. I’m terrified that she’s going to catch the scent of a person or their meal and head straight after them. Maybe bringing her wasn’t such a good idea, after all. I want to yell for her but I’m too afraid that the noise will draw attention to us. So, I urge Beau a little faster. Meekah hears the change in pace and quickly races after us so as not to be left behind.

  This road feels wrong.

  How many times have I ridden my bike down this road? Or dragged sleds with my brothers to the hill down the street to race down and repeat? Or walked to our favorite swimming hole with my dad? This road has always been bursting with happy memories. Now, it feels like a haunted version of the same street.

  ***

  The road makes a final ‘S’ curve away from the lake which loops around behind the elementary school grounds before connecting with my dad’s road. Excitement floods through me as we round the bend. We are barely over a mile from the house! The thought of seeing my dad’s face splits my own into the widest grin I can manage. I’m coming Dad! I’m almost there!

  A chain link fence begins on my left, surrounding the elementary school field where my siblings and I had all played sports or cheered each other on as children. An array of playground equipment takes up one corner of the field. The fence is caved
in in one long section, almost as if someone had driven a vehicle through it. There are several cars parked right in the field but they don’t look as if they’ve moved for some time. As the school itself comes into view, I see that there is graffiti covering areas of the building. Someone has sprayed “The end has come” in messy black letters across the faded brick. Over the double doors that I knew led to the small cafeteria was a white cloth banner that read “Town of Wilmington Crisis Center.”

  Huh.

  I had never really considered the thought that our town may have tried to come together after the power outage. Logically, the school seems an ideal place for people to congregate; there is plenty of space and most likely, some sort of food supply. I wasn’t sure how successful it had been though, judging from the busted in fence and the lack of activity. I wondered-

  Abruptly, the smell of smoke fills my nostrils. I yank back viciously on the reins, desperate for Beau to stop. I scan the landscape, searching for the source of the smoke. Crisis center or not, I do not want to meet anyone.

  There.

  Close to the school building, a couple hundred yards away, is a large fire pit with a tendril of smoke curling up toward the sky. It was blocked from my view initially by an old gray van. A handful of people are close to the building; a woman is kneeling near the fire and three men have their backs to me standing close to the flame.

  What should I do?

  Too late.

  Meekah’s deep growl draws my attention. While I was focused on the school to my left, I hadn’t noticed the approach of two men from my right. My faithful pup is on high alert, the hair on her back is again standing on edge like a mohawk. The men are perhaps twenty feet away. They look dirty, unshaven, and unkempt. Their cheekbones are prominent in their gaunt faces. “Meekah!” I demand her attention, but she doesn’t even flinch at my command.

  “Calm down there, girl,” one of the men croons to Meekah as he advances toward her. Her growling only increases.

  The other man has his hands out, trying to calm me, I think. “What have you got there?” he asks in a raspy voice.

  “I- I’m just traveling through,” I stammer.

  Slowly, but deliberately, I pull my rifle around and point it at the second man.

  “Now, now, no need for that miss. We were just out walking the perimeter, trying to find lost people like yourself.”

  I don’t know what to do. I am so desperate to think that there are still good people out there, that I may have found another haven in this scary new world. But a little voice inside of me is telling me to run. “How many people are here?” I ask cautiously.

  The first man is still slowly making his way toward Meekah, so I swing my gun in his direction.

  “Woah, woah,” he says, and finally stops his advance.

  “Slow down there, Ralph,” the man in front of me says, the leader, I think. He never looks away from me. “Now, miss, we’ve been here since the power went out. Many of the townspeople came here looking for refuge in the cold.”

  “Ain’t many left now,” the second man cuts in.

  “Zip it, Ralph.”

  Ralph ignores the other man and resumes his steady pace toward my dog. Meekah, still growling, begins to retreat to my side. “The children went first,” Ralph drawls quietly. “Not enough food, no medicine, no heat.” His words strike a chord in the nurse in me, but I can’t let him break down my guard. Now that he is drawing closer, I can see the greedy, crazed look in his face. My heart is beating rapidly, pounding in my ears so loud that I swear they should be able to hear it.

  Don’t show fear.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” I try to say confidently, but the words come out meekly. Swallowing, I start again. “I’m just passing through, so if you gentlemen will excuse me…”

  “I don’t think so,” Ralph says, as he suddenly leaps forward, catching Meekah and I both by surprise. He manages to catch ahold of one of her forelegs, cruelly pulling her toward him. His other hand grabs her by the throat.

  Beau shifts uneasily under me. Squeezing him with my thighs, I drop the reins to level my rifle at Ralph.

  They think I’m easy prey. They don’t think I’ll shoot. Trying to watch both men at the same time, I cock the gun and do my best to aim at Ralph’s head. I’m terrified that I might hit Meekah. She thrashes in his arms but is unable to get away or sink her teeth into him.

  The other man is steadily creeping up on my other side, making it difficult to keep control over the situation. If I ever even had it. I catch a glint of sun on metal in Ralph’s waistline, a gun. I’m surprised that he hadn’t pulled it on me, but since he’s now preoccupied with controlling a biting, snarling dog, I doubt he’ll be able to. I silently wish that she can fight him off before he tries to snap her neck or strangle her.

  Hold on, baby!

  The other man is only a foot or two from me; I quickly lash out with my left leg, attempting to kick him in the chest or head, but my boot is stuck in them loop of the stirrup, preventing me from landing the blow. He grabs my leg instead. He’s so close that I can see the rot between his teeth as he sneers up at me.

  Another thought flashes into my mind: what if those other men join these two? Luckily, our encounter has been quiet and the van that had blocked my own view now seems to be protecting me. Either way, I need this encounter to end before they realize what’s going on. It only takes a second for me to process this.

  A sharp yelp breaks through my frantic scrambling to break the man’s hold of me. My heart is in my throat as I risk a quick glance at Meekah. She’s still fighting. Keep fighting, baby!

  Fingers grasp tightly onto my left arm, drawing my attention back to my own attacker. Without thinking, I slam the butt of the rifle into his face. At the last second, he turns his face away so that my weapon glances off his cheek and neck. I feel his grip loosen, but he doesn’t let go. Adjusting my grip, I swing the butt of the rifle directly into his face, throwing my full weight behind it.

  My would-be attacker abruptly lets go of me as a spray of blood explodes from his mouth and nose. He covers his face with his hands, blood seeping between his fingers as he sinks to his knees. The effort of the swing almost unseats me from Beau’s back, but I catch myself before toppling over. Beau is side-stepping beneath me, anxious and snorting.

  One man down, now for the next.

  I see Meekah’s fight dwindling, her movements growing weaker. She’s flat on the ground with her assailant using his weight to press her into the ground. Recovering from the swing, I shove the stock of the gun into the crook of my shoulder and aim for the crouched figure of Ralph.

  He’s so absorbed with the slow death of my dog that he isn’t even watching me anymore.

  I don’t even consciously make the decision. I just pull the trigger.

  Two things happened with the roar of the gun. The first is the shattering of the right side of Ralph’s face. My bullet takes him just behind the jaw; instantly vaporizing bones, teeth, and blood that shower the ground in a huge spray. The second thing that happens is Beau’s violent rearing up onto his hind legs, throwing me backwards to the ground.

  The force of hitting the ground knocks the wind from me. Tears leak from the corners of my eyes as I try to gasp through the shock. As soon as Beau’s front legs touch the ground, he takes off down the dirt road, dragging me by one leg. My left ankle and knee are screaming in pain; my boot is still tangled in the stirrup, leaving me hanging at an awkward angle. My backpack absorbed the worst of the fall and allowed for some cushion behind me as I am brutally pulled across the hard ground. My head is dangerously close to the pounding hooves and it takes all my strength to try and twist my upper body away.

  Finally, able to gasp some air, I scream for Beau to stop, but he pays me no heed. Desperately, I crane my head backward to look behind me. Where’s Meekah? Is she following me? Could she?

  Beau continues his wild tear down the road. Eventually, he slows on his own and comes to a stop in the gra
ss by the road. Still gulping air, I lie still for a moment, mentally exploring my body for broken bones. Pushing thoughts of Meekah away, I awkwardly fold my right, uninjured, leg under myself and I’m able to slowly push myself to standing. Clinging to the girth strap with one hand, I use the other to painfully untangle my leg from the makeshift stirrup. As my boot comes free, I let out a whimper as I ease it to the ground. Gingerly testing my weight on my leg, I wince as a shock of pain streaks from my ankle to my knee. Despite that, it holds my weight. Sprained, maybe. Great.

  Beau’s snorting brings me back to the present. I know those people by the school building must know what had happened by now. It has only been moments since I shot Ralph, I hope they hadn’t yet regrouped to come after me. I doubt that Ralph will live but the other man most certainly will and probably wants revenge. It’s time to get out of there.

  Oh, Meekah. Please be okay. Please.

  I don’t think that I have ever wanted anything so badly.

  Still leaning on Beau for support, I make my way around him to use my good leg to push myself up into the saddle once more. A painful grunt escapes my lips as I fling my body up and across the broad, brown back. Slowly, I slide my leg around and down to straddle him. I don’t dare put my foot back in the stirrup, that had somehow, remained intact.

  I want to race away from the impending danger of those men finding me.

  I want to ride back and find my faithful companion.

  I want to stay here by the side of the road to wait and see if my sweet Meekah will catch up.

  But, in the end, I do what I have to: Squeezing Beau into the steady pace that we had used for most of the day, trying to numb my mind to the crushing agony that I feel in somehow losing my best friend in the blink of an eye.