by JEFF MOTES
John steers the ATV into the woods on the left side of the road. After going past the tree line, he stops. “Wait here, I’m going to check the trail.” He walks up the road a little and studies the ground then comes back. “Don’t see any tracks. I’m going to check the road to make sure no one was following. Be ready to go, just in case.”
He comes back after about ten minutes and we continue along the trail for a ways further in. Soon he turns into the woods to the left and drives until he finds a spot for camp.
He gets off the ATV and helps me off. “It’s only a few hours till dark. Let’s skip the tarp this time. I’ll set the tent up for you if you want.”
“I don’t think I could sleep right now. Let’s just sit under the trees.”
John sits down and leans his back on a huge beech tree. It is shady and cool. I sit in front of him and lean back onto his chest. His knees are up on either side of me and his arms are wrapped around me. I feel safe.
“John, you called me your wife when you talked to Theo. I don’t mind, but why did you?”
“I’m sorry if I’ve jumped the gun. ‘I will not leave you, nor will I forsake you. Where you go, I will go. I will not part ways from you.’ Those were your words. Your actions speak of their truth. I can’t think of any greater vows.”
“No, John, you haven’t jumped the gun. Whether we find a preacher or not, I’m yours, and I always will be. I will give myself to you fully when we get home, but I would like to find a preacher first, if we can.”
“We will. I promise when we get home we will find one. Can you stay awake? I need to close my eyes for a few minutes.”
“Sure. No problem. Get some rest.”
I keep watch to the soothing sound of John’s steady breathing.
Chapter 62
John
We Aren’t Stupid
Day 11
When I open my eyes it’s dark. I feel Jill’s warmth and softness as she lies in my arms. She is on her side, curled up. It’s dark underneath the canopy of the trees and I can see very little. About ten feet away is the outline of the ATV. I listen intently, as my vision is limited at the moment. The sounds of crickets and other nighttime creatures emanate from all around, but nothing to cause alarm.
Jill and I both being asleep was not a good idea. In fact, it was dangerous, but I can’t fuss at her. The past several days have left us both with little chance to rest and have assaulted us with many moments of stress. I wish I had the NVD on, but I don’t want to wake Jill. If someone had seen or heard us, they probably would have already attacked if that was their intention. It’s late, though exactly what time I’m not sure. My watch is one of those automatic, self-winding types with luminous dial. It winds itself as I move around. Right now, though, the dial is too faint to read.
I’m going to let Jill rest. Her body has been through a lot over the past two weeks. She’s been stressed, assaulted, and in a major accident. Most of her sleep the past few days has been while riding on the back of the ATV. She is exhausted, no doubt. I know her body is bruised. There are still faint signs of bruising in her face, along with the scratches from tree limbs. Yet I sense strength in her; strength despite the constant struggle.
It seems as though a lifetime has played out on this day. Professions of love, commitments of a lifetime, hope of returning home, disaster, conflict, death, betrayal, forgiveness, contentment, and uncertainty. All this in one single day! My body is still racked with pain, lingering from the ambush a week ago, from the limbs scratching my face, the physical beating I took yesterday, and the constant ups and downs of conflict. The physical pain, though intense, does not measure up to the toll of the constant mental and emotional stress. I thought I was prepared for hard times, but the constant stress and conflict are taking their toll.
Jill is the only thing that has kept me stable. She is my anchor to stability. I thank God for putting her back in my life. The gentle touch of her hand has brought me back from the brink more than once. Gently, I stroke her long blonde hair. The details of her features are hidden in the dim forest night, yet I sense her beauty through the darkness. I wish we could find a hole in the ground and hide, taking shelter until this apocalyptic time has passed. Yet the struggles for survival have only begun. It’s going to take all of my preparations, skills, determination, and strength to survive these next few years. All I can do, as long as God leaves me on this Earth, is do the best I can, with the best I have, to live and help those around me live.
This woman lying in my arms is the best I have.
We have about two days of water left and four days of food. We should be home within two days, but we should have been home nearly seven days ago. Nothing can be taken for granted. We are entering more familiar territory, an area where I know more people, but I can’t let that lull us into being any less cautious. We have to go through or around the towns of Pine Hill, Thomasville, and Grove Hill before getting to Jackson. I have no idea how the authorities have reacted to this monumental crisis. That’s why I want to scout Pine Hill in the dark to see if roadblocks and checkpoints are set up. I have no intention of giving up our ATV or guns to any despotic police force or city government. Doing so would likely mean death for me, and rape and death for Jill. That was going to happen to Lisa and did happen to Cassandra, all because the Brent Police confiscated their weapons. I will fight anyone who tries to take mine. Two weeks ago, that would have been a strange thought. There is no more law and court system to depend on, at least not for now. Right now, the only justice, the only protection we have, is what we provide for ourselves.
I didn't get a chance to recharge the batteries for the NVD or GPS. I’ll hook up one of the rechargeable power packs and transfer its power to the NVD batteries. There won’t be enough power for the GPS too. Its battery will be weak, but I should have enough non-rechargeable batteries to make it home. I gave Theo one set, but Jill has some in her pack. Most likely we won’t need the GPS once we enter Clarke County anyway. We have about seven gallons of fuel left, plus what’s in the fuel tank. That should be more than enough to cover the fifty miles to Jackson, then another fifteen to Repose. Unless something unexpected happens, we shouldn’t have to stop for supplies before arriving home. Still, the unexpected has happened nearly every day since The Day.
When we get home, somehow, I have got to find a day to rest and recover. I’m spent and not sure how much longer I can hold up to the mental strain. Perhaps with Jill by my side, she can give me enough strength to make it home. And…I have to find a preacher!
Jill stirs, snuggling into my chest, then with a start she sits up.
“Oh, no!” she says.
“What is it?” I ask.
“John, I’m so sorry. I fell asleep!”
“Everything is okay. We were both just too tired. We do have to be careful, though. Let’s stay on the alert until we walk in our door.”
She settles back against my chest and says, “Our door. I like the sound of that, but John, I’ve never even been to your place. Are you really going to let me walk in and take charge of your house?”
“Our house. And yes, I need someone to cook, wash dishes, mop floors, and wash clothes.”
“Hmmm…my fee for those types of services is going to be pretty high. You may want to find a housekeeper instead of a wife.”
“I’m willing to pay whatever fee is required, but I’m only kidding about the other. Will and I have been alone for a long time. We know how to clean up after ourselves.”
“Good,” she says with a grin, “because that would be my first rule.”
“What’s the second rule?”
“My second rule is, I don’t like rules, but we’re going to have to come up with some for Lizzy and Will.”
“You’re right. I hadn’t thought of that. We’ll work it out, Jill. Let’s get home first.”
“Are we really going to make it home?”
“Yes, Jill, I promise I will take you home. In fact, we should get moving. I wan
t to get closer to Pine Hill, then proceed on foot to see if there are any roadblocks or checkpoints. We may be able to go right through. If not, we can find a way around but it’ll add a lot of miles.”
Jill stands and reaches down to help me up. We get the NVDs out of our packs. When I put mine on, I grimace in pain. It hurts my bruised head! I get spare batteries and put them in my pocket then help Jill put on the other Gen 1 NVD and give her some spare batteries.
“You’ll probably want to adjust the focus,” I suggest.
She does, then says, “You look weird through these things with that headgear on.” I reply, “You do too, except in a pretty kind of way. You hungry? I have a couple of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches left from lunch.”
We eat in silence, occasionally drinking from our stainless water bottles.
Jill says, “I’m ready to go. I’m ready to see Lizzy and my mom.”
“Me too. But remember, even though we’re close to home, we still have to be vigilant.”
We start back for the road and stop close to the highway. Getting off the ATV, I walk the rest of the way and scan both ways. Seeing nothing moving or unusual, I return to Jill, we pray together, then continue south on AL5.
We’re about five miles north of Pine Hill. Considering we’re having to drive slowly again, it should take about half an hour. “It’s 9:35 right now,” I say. “We should get to Pine Hill around 10:00.”
“Sounds good. You think it would be all right if I take this NVD off until I need it? It’s tight on my head and I keep bumping you with it.”
“That’s fine.”
We pass a few cars on the side of the road, and several log trucks. I have often wondered how many log trucks delivered to the mill each day. There was always a steady stream flowing in when I was there. There’s a faint light emanating from some of the houses; must be candles.
The NVD starts picking up a faint light ahead. It’s not visible with my naked eye. It’s either an IR source or is too dim to be seen unaided. I hope the latter. As we get closer, it grows much brighter in the NVD and I start picking it up in my bare eye. We approach slowly. About a half mile away, I pull into the woods.
“I think I should approach on foot and see what’s up. Put your NVD back on and find a place along the tree line where you can watch the road, yet remain unseen. Make sure you don’t turn the IR source on. Let me know if you see anything. Let’s check the radios.”
After hearing their slight squeal, I give her a quick kiss, then start for the pavement. Walking quickly but silently, I head south toward the light, which I now know is a fire. At the intersection with highway AL10 there is a dump truck abandoned in one lane. To the west is one log truck. and to the east, towards the mill, there are several. South of the intersection, about a quarter mile on, there are cars pushed across the travel lanes. In the middle is a gap about the size of one car. The fire is on the west shoulder. I approach as quietly as I can, trying to keep the dump truck between me and the fire. Once at the intersection, there is no more cover. The roadblock appears to be poorly set up. It only covers the pavement and doesn’t extend to the cleared right-of-way on either side of the pavement. The fire is a bad idea. It’s a beacon for all to see, shouting “I’m here!” It will also degrade whatever natural night vision these men have. I move to the opposite side of the road from the fire and proceed, crouching, up to the cars on the east side. Their conversation becomes clear as I approach closer. They’re talking about trying to set up a community fishing crew. That’s probably a real good idea. Bending low, I approach along the north side of the car barrier until I reach the last car. I stop at the hood of that car, trying to keep the engine between me and the men. They’re not very alert at all. They’re clustered around the fire, staring into it and having a good ole’ boy conversation.
I think I recognize one of the voices. I flip the NVD and raise my head above the hood of the car. The man speaking has got to be Bill Sanderson, and he is looking directly at me. He rises from his chair with a start, causing the other men to do likewise. I duck down when I see his rifle start to rise.
“Bill Sanderson,” I call out, “don’t shoot. This is John Carter.”
Bill calls back, “John who?”
“Come on Bill, you know me. We worked on the controls upgrade for the paper machine a little while back.”
“John? John Carter? What the heck are you doing out here?”
“Lower your weapons and we can talk.”
Bill says, “Yeah, sure. Come on over here by the fire. It helps keep the insects away.”
I stand and see all the rifles are now down, but still in each man’s hands. I really don’t want to be around that fire. It will make me vulnerable, but I need to talk to these men.
Before I walk over I call out, “Bill, are y’all confiscating firearms and vehicles?”
“Hell no. We aren’t stupid. The first day, the chief thought he was going to confiscate some vehicles. Well, he tried the wrong person. When he woke up the next day, he decided maybe the town didn’t need a car after all!”
I click the radio mic three times, then walk around to the fire.
“Geez, John, you look like a Borg or something out of Star Trek.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, maybe I do with this night vision device on my head. How are things here?”
“Like crap,” Bill says. “Everybody is low on food, no running water, no sewers. The worst is no beer. What are you doing here, John? Don’t you live close to Jackson, in Repose?”
“I was up around Birmingham on The Day. I’ve been trying to get home ever since.”
One of the other guys says, “Birmingham? That’s a long ways. You walk all the way?”
“No, I had a bike for a ways and a truck for a ways. It broke down about ten miles up the road. I’ve been walking for a little while.” Then I change the subject. “Bill, what about getting through town?”
“There’s a dusk till dawn curfew, but during the day you can go straight through. I’d tell you to go ahead now, but the chief might wake up and shoot you.”
Pressing for information I ask, “How about south, going into Thomasville, how are the roads?”
“We have a few people come and go each day between here and Thomasville and haven’t gotten any reports of bad trouble. The National Guard is in Thomasville working with the city and handling the checkpoints. You can pass through Thomasville, but not with your guns. If you have guns, you have to go around. At least, that’s what I heard second or third hand.”
“What about further south to Jackson?”
“I haven’t talked to anybody coming from down there. Heck, I was at the mill when it happened, and I haven’t been outside Pine Hill since I left work.”
“So, I can’t go through tonight?”
“John, I don’t care, but the chief might do something stupid,” Bill says. “I wouldn’t do it if I was you.”
“Okay, I’ll be back at daybreak.” I start back up the highway.
“Where you going?” Bill calls after me.
“I left some things up the road. I’ll be back at daybreak. See ya, Bill.”
Once I’m out of earshot, I call Jill. “Barney, this is Pumper. On my way back.”
Jill acknowledges. She’s waiting at the tree line with her Ruger in hand when I arrive. I explain my conversation to her, then say, “Let’s move in a little deeper. We’ll set up camp for the night and be in Pine Hill at daybreak. We still might make it home tomorrow.”
“That would be wonderful. I’m so anxious to see our families.”
I set the tent up and unroll my ground pad and Jill’s sleeping bag inside, then roll my bag on the outside, next to the tent.
She asks, “You aren’t joining me?”
“Not tonight, Jill. We have to stay on our guard. You get some rest. I’ll take first watch. I’ll wake you up in a few hours.”
Jill crawls into the tent. Even with the NVD, I can see how beautiful she is. I’ll just have to wait a
little longer.
Chapter 63
Jill
In Clarke County
Day 12
I touch John’s shoulder and he opens his eyes. Although I cannot see the blue hue in the dim light of daybreak, I see deep inside. He is looking back into my eyes and it makes me quiver. I bend down and kiss him lightly on the lips.
“It’s the break of day, sleeping beauty, time to rise and shine.”
“I think I’m going to enjoy getting woken up by an angel every morning,” he says.
I hand him a cup of coffee. “It’s the last we have, so you better get us home today.”
He sits up and takes the cup, taking a sip. “The first cup of coffee at the break of day, sitting next to a beautiful woman, this is the life for me.”
“If you like this kind of life you better get us home, because I’m serious, that’s all of our coffee.”
He smiles. “I think we might make it today. If we don’t, we should be close, but I’ll settle for the beautiful woman any day.”
I sit next to him and run my fingers lightly through his hair, feeling the scar from the gunshot wound. “I think your hair will cover this scar nicely in a few more days. How does your head feel?”
John twists and bends his neck around experimentally. “It’s still sore, but not as bad as yesterday. Yesterday was tough.”
The light is still a little too dim to see all his features, but I know it’s there; and it was there yesterday. “John, you have a big shiner.” I bend over and kiss his cheek softly, then stand. “Come on, cowboy, take your woman home.”
I’ve already packed the camp up. The only thing remaining is John’s sleeping bag and the cups. He pulls the Mini-14 off the ATV and unloads it, cycles the action several times, and dry fires it. He then puts a magazine in and cycles all thirty rounds through the action. After reloading the magazine, he says, “Let me show you how to use this. I made the mistake of not showing you how to use the shotgun and it almost cost us our lives.”