Drought Warning: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (The Damaged Climate Series Book 2)

by J. R. Tate

  “The river still looks full!” Darryl said, pointing toward the winding body of water. “How’s your canteens doing?” They had just left Harper Springs but any chance to rehydrate in the heat was important. Keeping the horses hydrated was also important.

  Ryan took a pull off of his and shook it. “I could use a refill. Doug?”

  Doug didn’t answer but scooted along the riverbank, holding his downstream to allow water to flow into it. Taking the looter along with them was a risk, but he was a risk regardless what they did with him. Darryl hoped he wasn’t a lost cause – he believed in second chances and the stupid decision to go around killing and stealing had to be clouded due to the desperation of the situation. Or was Doug always like that? He didn’t know the man but he had to believe that Doug and his brother had gotten desperate and now that he had someone giving him honest help, he’d pull through and be a contributing member of society.

  Darryl cupped some water in his hand and sipped it. The water wasn’t cool and refreshing as he had expected – the hot sun was already warming up the water. At least it was something wet and would replenish his fluids. He tried hard not to imagine a large glass of ice-water – his mouth watered just thinking about it.

  Catching up to Ryan and Doug, Darryl patted Ryan’s shoulder. “How are you feeling, Ryan?”

  His son glanced at him from the corner of his eye, his expression saying so much – as if he wanted to know why his father would ask such a question.

  “I’m feeling good.” He wiped the back of his neck with a wet rag. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m fine, Ryan. I’m worried about your leg.” He pointed down at it. “Now’s not the time to be proud. If you’re hurting, we can go back to the shelter so you can get off of it. Or we can stop so you can rest. Doug and I can get to Fox Lake.”

  Ryan held his hand up to stop Darryl, his thick eyebrow arching in disbelief. “I’m going to Fox Lake. I’m not going back to the shelter. I promised Cecilia I’d find her parents and I’m not going back on my word.”

  “And how are you going to find her parents if you end up losing your leg. Or worse? What if it kills you?”

  Ryan scoffed and picked up his pace, though it still wasn’t too fast for Darryl to keep up. “I really don’t need any dad lectures right now. I’m good. I’m going there and back.” Ryan stopped and faced Darryl, resting his hand on Darryl’s shoulder. “We made it this far. I’m not going to do all of this and succumb to a gash on my leg.”

  “What is this, cry like a little girl hour?” Doug joined them, adjusting his backpack as he slowed his horse. “The longer we stand around and sing We Are the World, the day is just going to get hotter.” He pointed up at the sky, a smirk forming on his lips.

  It made both Darryl and Ryan laugh, and without another word spoken, they continued northward in the direction where Fox Lake once was. Darryl wondered what was left of the town and if they had survivors like Harper Springs who had joined together to try to get some semblance of normalcy going again. It was about the same size as Harper Springs and they were basically sister cities.

  If there was anyone left, they could join forces and double the population – the more people involved, the more they could come up with ideas on how to salvage resources. Or it could do harm – the more people, the more everyone would butt heads, which is where the old saying came – Too many chiefs and not enough Indians. In times of emergency, humankind was good about sticking together. Hopefully, now, that was true to form.

  Baby steps were the name of the game – rather than think about the big picture of getting to Fox Lake, searching for Cecilia’s parents, and getting home, he had to think about the next mile in front of them. Staying hydrated, staying nourished, avoiding wild animals, and avoiding the heat were the main focus. Even that seemed too daunting. Darryl also had to push aside his worry for Ryan. The man was stubborn and when it involved helping his family, there was no way he could convince him to do anything once he had his mind set. He was proud of Ryan for that – it was also one of the biggest reasons they fought.

  Taking a swig from his canteen, Darryl pulled his shirt collar around his neck and continued riding. They had only been out about thirty minutes but the sweltering conditions made it feel like an eternity.

  ***

  Ryan tried to keep his mind on other things to avoid thinking about the drought conditions forming around them. He ran the toe of his boot over the ground and was glad to see that there was still some moisture left in the dirt. That meant that even without a constant irrigation system, Steve and the farmers back home would be able to get seed in the ground and it would be enough to at least get things to sprout. Once the sun completely sucked the remaining moisture from the earth it would prove to be another challenge, but getting things planted was what they had to worry about right now – it was the first bridge that they would need to cross.

  There was a small shaded area along the river and though time wasn’t on their side, it was best to stop. Doug looked beet red and Darryl could probably use a break. The tension in Ryan’s leg was starting to ache worse and it’d give him a chance to check the bandage and make sure the stitches hadn’t busted again. There wasn’t any blood on his pants which was a good sign.

  “How far would you say we’ve gone?” Doug asked as he scooted off of his horse and tied the reins to a tree branch.

  Ryan glanced over his shoulder and to the north, attempting to grasp his bearings. “I’m not sure. Ten, maybe fifteen miles.”

  “Then why are we stopped?” Doug shook his head and threw his hands in the air.

  “Because it’s hot. The horses need to rest and this is the first shady area we’ve come across. Drink some water and relax. I need to check on my leg.”

  “Just what we need, a damn cripple slowing us down. I didn’t even want to come along!”

  Ryan heard his dad say something to Doug but he didn’t stick around to hear it. Going behind a tree, he unzipped his pants and pulled them down, checking the gauze and tape to make sure it was still in place. There was no evidence of blood on the bandage and rather than deal with having to redo it all, he left it alone. When they stopped for the night he’d put clean gauze on it, but for now, it seemed fine.

  “Everything okay?”

  Ryan jumped when he saw his dad looking over his shoulder. Pulling his jeans up, he turned away, attempting to keep his temper in check. It felt like his dad was treating him like he was a kid again, and while it was a genuine concern, Ryan’s patience was gone.

  “It’s fine, Dad.”

  “Keep an eye on it. Even on a horse, you’re putting a strain on your body.”

  Ryan glared at him for a second but didn’t have a response. They were only a day into their journey and it was way too soon to be getting tense with the men he was traveling with. Walking under the shade, he checked for the guns and ammunition he had tucked away in the pockets of the saddle. The shotgun was still there and the handgun he had been carrying since everything began was loaded in a saddlebag. He still didn’t fully trust Doug and wanted to make sure he hadn’t secretly taken any of the weapons.

  “You gonna use that on me, too?” Doug pointed at the rifle that was impossible to completely conceal. The barrel poked out of the front, riding longways against the side of the horse.

  “Do I have reason to?” Ryan asked as he dipped his bandana in the river.

  “Did you have reason to kill my brother?”

  Ryan’s face heated up and he gritted his teeth. The two men he had killed were a sore spot that he’d never get over, regardless of the circumstance. Rather than fall into the trap of grappling with Doug, Ryan draped the bandana across the back of his neck, the droplets of water dripping over his parched skin. He tried not to make eye contact with Doug and sat under a tree, pulling a package of beef jerky from his bag.

  “You’ve got nothing to say, huh?” Doug scoffed and bit his bottom lip. “I guess I wouldn’t either if...”

 
Darryl intervened, stepping in front of Doug before he could finish his sentence. “I think now is a good time to keep your mouth shut, Doug. Now’s not the time to be bringing shit like that up.”

  “And when exactly is a good time, Darryl?”

  “I don’t know. But it definitely isn’t right now.”

  Darryl glanced over his shoulder at Ryan. Was he judging him for taking a life too? Ryan tried to tell himself that it didn’t matter. The deeds had been done and there was no bringing either of the men back to life. No matter how hard he tried to convince himself of why he had done it, the guilt weighed heavy on his shoulders.

  Sifting through his bag, the rabies kit the doctor had given him fell out – another instant reminder of the other man’s life. Rabid and hungry, ready to kill anything that came along. Ryan shivered at the memory of the cold and vacant look in his eye and how easily it could have been him and Ty. Slipping the syringe and the medicine back in his pack, he made a mental note that he’d have to take the second round of the vaccine in a few days. He hoped he’d remember.

  Ryan bit off a few more pieces of jerky and offered the bag to both Doug and Darryl, who took it from him and gobbled it down. It was the first form of protein they had consumed since that morning in Harper Springs and tasted almost as good as a grilled steak. Sitting on the edge of the river, he cupped some water in his palm and splashed it on his face and arms. It felt refreshing and the cool change in temperature made the sunburn on his arms, face, and back of his neck sting. He wanted to completely submerge himself in the water but with his wound and bandage, he didn’t want to get some weird contaminant that would kill him.

  He scraped his hand on the side of the river and pulled up globs of mud, patting thick layers on his arms and exposed skin. The mud dried almost instantly but stuck to his skin like a mask.

  “What in the hell are you doing?” Doug asked.

  “Sunscreen. It’ll help keep the UV rays off of my skin. It’s another way to stay hydrated – the moisture won’t escape through pores.” Ryan spread more mud on his cheeks, chin, and forehead. His beard was starting to grow in again, which would be added protection along with the layers of mud. He imagined it looked like the masks that Cecilia used to put on before bed to smooth her skin. Now he just needed cucumber slices to cover his eyes. Fresh vegetables sounded amazing.

  Doug laughed and pointed. “Can you believe this shit, Darryl?”

  “I can. It’s a damn fine idea.” Darryl knelt beside Ryan and took his lead, globbing on layers of mud. “It’s nice and cool. Kind of feels like aloe vera.”

  “Wouldn’t that be a treat? If we could find an aloe vera plant somewhere,” Ryan replied. It wasn’t far-fetched but he wasn’t going to get his hopes up about it.

  “You two have lost your minds. I’m not doing that.”

  Ryan glanced up at Doug and shrugged. “Suit yourself. Not like we’re making you. Don’t come crying to me when your skin blisters up so bad that you can’t even wear a shirt.” Standing, he brushed past Doug, packing up his bag and taking a quick inventory of his supplies.

  “That mud is just going to weigh you down. No telling how many germs are in it.”

  Ryan ignored him. It was sad how much common sense that Doug was lacking. Maybe that was why he was so quick to resort to looting – he had no other survival skills to get him through. Saddling up, he cringed at the quick shot of pain that coursed down his leg, but it quickly subsided as quick as it came on.

  “We better get going. We’re going to lose daylight.”

  Maybe losing daylight wasn’t such a bad thing. If the heat didn’t let up, that might be the better time to travel. He’d have to think about it. Every decision they faced felt like the difference between life and death.

  Chapter Nine

  Cecilia had a hard time sitting still. With Ryan gone and her parents missing, so much of their future was uncertain. Were her parents okay? A lot of time had passed since the initial tornadoes had come through. She kept hope that they were fine just from how well prepared her father had been in getting their cellar ready. His constant preparation had been enough to inspire Ryan to get stocked up and she was thankful for that. Had they not bought non-perishables, so much of the current outcome could have been different.

  Ty had been sleeping off and on since Ryan had said his goodbyes. He was making a slow and steady recovery and the doctor had upgraded him to satisfactory condition. His appetite was coming back full force and his curiosity had been running wild. She had missed his constant questions before, and now that they were back, she’d never get frustrated with him again.

  Sitting on the edge of his bed, she ruffled her fingers through his hair. He was breathing deeply and his eyelids fluttered for a second before he nestled back into the mattress and stayed asleep. Kids were resourceful – he’d adjust to only having one arm. Cecilia hoped that would be true.

  “Why the long face, Mrs. Gibson?”

  Steve broke her concentration and she forced a smile as Ryan’s friend stood across from her.

  “Just thinking. Trying to comprehend it all.”

  Steve smiled and glanced down at Ty. “Try not to do that too much. You get the mind going and it puts you deep in a hole you won’t be able to get out of.”

  Cecilia laughed and nodded. Steve was a nice guy. Goofy, but nice. “How do you do it?”

  “Do what?”

  She leaned forward and kept her voice low so they wouldn’t disturb Ty. “When you get to thinking about things, how do you get it to turn off? I haven’t quite mastered that just yet.”

  Steve let out a deep breath as he thought about it. “Take it a minute at a time. All of the stuff that has happened is done. And we can’t even imagine what’s to come, so why worry about it?”

  “Easier said than done,” Cecilia replied. “I’m a mother. It’s my job to ponder the future. To worry about things that probably won’t ever happen. I seem to be very good at it.”

  “Well, what exactly are you worried about right now?”

  “How much time do you have?” she asked, another laugh escaping. It felt good to smile.

  “I get it – saying not to worry is like telling me not to sit out there and watch the crops grow. And we’ve gone through some detrimental stuff we never thought possible. But you’re alive, yeah? Ty is too. And your husband – he’s going to be fine too. He’s going to get back here with your parents and we’ll all make a new normal.”

  “I wish I could be as certain as you are about everything.”

  Steve pursed his lips and nodded. “He got me here. He got Ty here and he also found you. He sounds like Superman to me.”

  “Even Superman had kryptonite.” Cecilia tried to brush the negative feelings aside. She had to change the subject before she went crazy. “How’s the planting going?”

  “Still trying to gather seeds and vegetation. It’s getting there. We’ve got volunteer plants popping up in the CRP land and Darryl mentioned some stuff we might be able to find at his place. One step at a time. That’s where we are. Slowly but surely.”

  “Sounds like you know what you’re doing, Steve.”

  “Or I’m just good at faking it.” He smiled. “Chin up, Cecilia. Everything is under control.”

  “I sure hope you’re right.” She had to stay positive. If she continued to doubt things, Ty would read her like a book.

  Ty was sleeping soundly so she went up to ground-level to get some fresh air. It was evening and the sun was beginning to set on the horizon. Though daylight was dissipating, it was still very hot and she wondered if they would get any reprieve from the temperatures.

  Walking down the sidewalk, she was certain she probably would never get used to the way things were transitioning. Harper Springs was never a big city to begin with, but there was always someone out walking or sitting on their porch, waving at everyone who passed by. Now it was like a ghost town with destruction and uncertainty all around her. The population was easily cut down to half
and probably even less – she refused to allow herself to get looped into trying to figure out who had lived and died. Being blind to it helped with the coping, though deep down, she knew many of her friends had perished in Mother Nature’s game against the area.

  She found her way to the area where she and Ryan had sat the previous night before he left on his trip. She thought about the sacrifices he was making for the good of the family and her heart burst with love at the fact that he was genuine when it came to taking care of them. She feared he wouldn’t be so lucky this time, especially since he was injured.

  Pulling her knees up to her chest, she rested her head on them and looked sideways where there used to be a park. She had taken Ty there numerous times to help him run out some of his energy. Now there was a hill of debris where the playground equipment once stood, the dust lingering just above the pile, lending an end-of-the-world feeling to the surroundings.

  Letting out a deep breath, Cecilia closed her eyes and felt the warmth gather behind her lids. They were the lucky ones but she didn’t feel all that fortunate. Opening her eyes again, she noticed a small flower poking through the hard earth a few feet from where she was sitting. Even in these conditions, the vegetation was finding a way to survive. She took it as a metaphor for everything, and in the midst of her feeling sorry for herself, she found the flower to be a guiding light to pull her out of all of then negativity. It was small and dainty but she would take what she could get. A small jolt forward from a daisy cracking through the dirt – it was the nudge forward she needed.

  ***

  Ryan watched the sun disappear behind some foothills. They had been riding for most of the day and it still felt like they hadn’t made much headway. They couldn’t run the horses for too long or very fast due to the heat. At least they were making double time with them instead of being on foot. They found a small cove beside the river and stopped for the evening. There was no need to really start a fire – they could eat some of their packed food that wouldn’t require cooking.