by J. R. Tate
Rolling his pallet out, he smoothed the blanket and ruffled the travel pillow, thankful he had one. The doctor’s office had supplied things they would have never had otherwise. Storing everything in the basement proved to be a great decision on their part.
“I think we can speed up the pace on these horses tomorrow,” Darryl said, sitting beside Ryan. “They’re in good shape and we should be able to travel at about thirty miles per hour. Hell, I used to ride my horses to cover about fifty miles per hour, but that was in healthy conditions and only for short spurts. We barely seemed to walk them today.”
“I’m kind of hesitant to. It’s hot and they’ve already been running for a few weeks with the rescue parties. They need to rest too or we’ll lose our only means of transportation. They seem a little sluggish like us.” Ryan took a drink of water. “What do you think about traveling at night?”
Darryl looked off in the distance. His mud was dry enough that each time he moved, pieces broke off and fell to the ground. “We don’t have a lot of time. We gotta find Cecilia’s folks and get back before we all bake to a crackly crisp. And traveling at night might be okay but rattlesnakes are out at night. We’d have to keep moving tonight or it’ll set us back another day.”
“We can speed up. Just can’t completely run them at full speed, as much as I’d like to.” Ryan opened a can of tuna, grateful of the tab on the lid. Unwilling to waste anything, he drank the water out of the can and spooned out the potted fish, eating it like it was a delicacy. “I guess we’ll stick to the original plan and get up early tomorrow. Cover lots of ground before it gets scorching. The horses can’t continue on tonight, anyway. Do we need to take watch tonight?”
“Probably a good idea. Do it in shifts.”
Ryan finished the tuna and saved the lid for a sharp edge. “You and me. You do half the night and I do the other?”
“I count three of us, Ryan.”
Ryan hesitated and watched Doug from a distance. “I don’t trust him.”
“I think he’ll be fine.”
Ryan adjusted his weight. He’d need to re-bandage his wound so he reached for the lantern and made sure the propane bottle attached had enough in it.
“We fall asleep and he’ll rob us blind. I’m carrying a lot of weapons. And our food? If he takes it all we’re screwed, Dad. It’s a chance I don’t want to take. You don’t even really know him.”
“I had him at your place and we were fine.”
“You had him tied up. There’s a difference. Come on. Think about it.”
Doug walked up and joined them. “Think about what?”
Ryan looked at Darryl, hoping he’d think up something quick in response. His dad didn’t catch the hint so he had to think fast. “About tomorrow and how we want to pace the horses.”
Ryan pulled out a box of matches and lit the lantern. He really didn’t want to mess with the wound around the other two but any expectation of privacy had flown out the window. Lifting himself off of the ground, he slid his pants down just enough to expose his thigh. Gently, he pulled the tape surrounding the gauze. It pulled at his hair and he clenched his jaw to try and help with the pain.
“Rip it off like a band-aid,” Darryl said, reaching toward him. “Want me to help?”
“No. I got it!” He pulled the gauze completely off, scared at what he might find underneath, but it wasn’t as bad as he was imagining.
“Here’s the ointment.” Doug tossed it toward him which surprised Ryan. Peace offering? It wasn’t enough to prove anything and Ryan vowed to not let his guard down with the looter.
Ryan washed everything with alcohol first and the burning was painful. At least it was cleaning things. Dabbing the ointment on, he cut a square patch of gauze and applied it. He noticed that Doug and Darryl were both watching him.
“Y’all are acting like I’m a medical show or something.”
“It’s the most interesting thing I’ve seen all day. The wound looks good. A little red but doesn’t seem to be infected.” Darryl pulled a piece of tape off of the roll for him. “Is it hurting?”
“Not much. Don’t worry about it. It’s healing up just fine. Steve did the hard part the first time it was stitched up. If it weren’t for that, this would be twenty times worse than it is, not to mention the nurse that helped me too.”
“Ah, Steve.” Doug smiled. “He was going to be our slave.”
“And see how it all worked out. Poetic justice, huh?” Ryan glanced up at him and back down at the bandage, putting the last piece of tape on it. Pulling his pants back up, he nudged his dad and said, “I mean what I said. Just you and me. I’ll take first watch.” He didn’t care that Doug knew. His harsh opinion of the thief was no mystery.
“You mean I’m not manly enough to keep a look out over our precious campsite?”
Doug’s sarcasm was thick and when Ryan stood up, it took everything in his power not to deck him. He approached him and looked him straight in the eye, their noses almost touching. Balling his fists, Ryan felt his father’s hand on his arm. It was a good thing – they needed a peacemaker or one or both of them would be dead by morning.
“Hit me, Ryan. Go ahead and kill me like I’ve been begging your daddy to do. Put me out of my damn misery! We’re just dying slow and you know it!” He raised his voice and it echoed in the distance. “What’s another kill? Another notch on your belt?”
“There’s nothing I’d rather do than go ahead and off you. You’re a hitch in our plan, a constant worry, and I can’t trust you. But I’m not going to stoop to your level of stupidity. I’m not going to let this bullshit get the best of me.”
“You did with my brother.”
Darryl’s grip on Ryan’s arm tightened but he ignored it. “I killed your brother because he was going to kill me. Not that I have to justify it to you.”
“Keep telling yourself that. You’ve got killer in your blood and you don’t want to admit it.”
Ryan stared him down a few more seconds and finally pulled himself away, taking a few steps back. Doug wasn’t worth the anger and energy. He pulled the shotgun and the nine-millimeter from the saddle and found an incline a few yards from where their pallets were laid out. It gave him a good vantage point of everything around them and a straight view of where Doug was laying.
Double checking each gun, he made sure they were fully loaded and ready to go. He also had extra ammunition in his bag just in case. He was more worried about rabid animals finding them. With the fluctuation in weather, he couldn’t be too sure on how the wildlife would react. He also had to watch for snakes, as Darryl had mentioned earlier. They were nocturnal and with the night being a tad cooler, they’d come out and do some hunting. Along with his rabies kit they had packed a snake kit that contained some anti-venom. It wasn’t foolproof but he felt safer knowing it was available. If they all made it through this, he’d have to hug the staff at the doctor’s office. Without them, they wouldn’t have half of the medical supplies they were carrying.
He pulled a small picture of Cecilia, Ty and him taken several months back. He always had a picture of them in his wallet and he trailed his thumb down the front of it. Ryan’s eyes fell to the arm that Ty had lost. It was resting on Cecilia’s shoulder and he was standing on a rock behind them, happy that the pose made him taller than his parents. To go back to that day with what he knew now. He’d high tail them out of the area long before the weather system had come through. But was there even a safe place to go? From the lack of help showing up, he predicted that no matter where they went, they’d be dealing with some kind of disaster. Nowhere was safe.
Two men dead and his son’s amputation were all under his watch and heavy on his conscience. Maybe the idea of going to find Cecilia’s parents was a bad idea. It felt like everything he tried to do was a big mistake and he would find some way to screw it all up. His decisions were justified. He did it all for the safety of his family and the people of Harper Springs.
Ryan watched Doug as he doz
ed off. The man was a pest and a nuisance. He hated that he was here, trekking along beside him and his father. But Darryl was right – it was better than the alternative. He’d rather deal with him than worry about Cecilia and Ty’s safety back at the shelter. It was about the only thing Ryan felt secure about.
Clutching the shotgun, his eyes scanned the area. A small breeze blew through and his sweat served as his own personal air conditioner. It was going to be a long night. If everything went as planned, they could reach Fox Lake by late afternoon tomorrow. That was if everything went as planned. Ryan wasn’t going to get his hopes up.
Nothing ever went as planned.
Chapter Ten
Steve couldn’t sleep. His mind raced in different directions with everything they had to get done. He had only just met Ryan but it seemed like the man knew what he was talking about when it came to weather. It was hard to believe that they would fall into a drought after the torrential downpours they recently experienced, but just as his new friend was predicting, it was happening before their very eyes.
Steve was no stranger to droughts. Back home in Oklahoma, he was all too familiar with the fluctuating weather. During wet times the old-timers always warned everyone to not get too comfortable. Even then they enforced water restrictions to live like precipitation was scarce just to get ahead of the soil and water conservation. He often compared it to people who lived paycheck to paycheck even when they didn’t have to. It provided a safety net just in case times did get hard. And right now, it felt like they were on the fast track to extremely dry conditions.
His main worry was finding vegetation to plant. He hadn’t been in the area long enough to really establish his own farm but it was worth going back to so he could see what he could come up with. Everyone mentioned volunteer plants that were known to shoot up in fields across the area. The biggest concern with those was the seed getting washed away. Adding to that was the wind from the tornadoes – many plants were blown all across the area. And how long would it take for the actual plant to seed out so they could use them to plant actual crops near the shelter?
Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes and looked across the room. There were a few lanterns lit in various places, providing enough light for him to see silhouettes of others inside the shelter. Cecilia and Ty were both fast asleep in a far corner. He felt responsible for them – Ryan had saved his life so now he felt obliged to make sure his rescuer’s family was taken care of. Cecilia was stressed and he couldn’t blame her. With Ryan outside, everything hung in the balance. With Ryan out looking for her parents, that just added a cherry on top of her stressful situation.
He wasn’t doing anyone any good by worrying and allowing insomnia to hijack his sleep. Slipping into his boots, Steve tried to keep quiet so he wouldn’t wake others up. Rather than waste time, he was going to take a quick trip out to his farm. There were a few horses available and with that means of transportation it wouldn’t take him long.
Reaching ground-level, he saddled an old brown and white paint horse and slid on. He felt the weight of the handgun Ryan had let him borrow in his pocket. It was a little after two AM and the heat was still scorching – at least the sun was gone so it took a little of the discomfort away.
He rode in the direction where his farm once stood. During his trip, he thought about the way the past year had transpired. Divorcing his wife, moving to Texas to start over, and now all of this. If someone would have told him how it would all play out he would have laughed in their face. But here he was, on the back of an old paint, weaving through debris, fallen trees, and destruction from tornado after tornado. Many dead and wounded – everyone homeless and hungry. He wanted to help everyone as best as he could.
Steve kept his eye out for wild animals. He’d never get the coyote attack on Ryan out of his head. He had come out typically okay, but now Steve didn’t have someone to help him if he found himself in a similar situation. On the other hand, if he came across wildlife like deer or wild hogs he could bring back a huge feast for everyone. Both animals were large enough to provide second and third helpings for everyone. Deer jerky – Steve’s stomach growled at the thought of the lean meat.
He twisted the reins between his fingers and nudged the horse’s side. His trot quickened and Steve looked over his shoulder, making sure he didn’t lose his vantage point with Harper Springs. He had a pretty decent sense of direction but since he wasn’t from the area, he still feared he would get lost and be stuck. The highway was familiar and his house had just been about a quarter mile off the road and several miles from the city limits.
Along the way, he would stop where he thought other homesteads had been. Even though trees had been uprooted and torn to shreds, they were still in groves, giving Steve hints of where it was likely people had been. No matter how many times he came across it, seeing foundations in the ground where the houses once stood was heartbreaking. Plumbing pipes shot out from the earth, but other than the concrete slab and the pipes, there was no sign of what kind of house it was.
Sliding off of the horse, he tied the reins to a tree trunk a few feet away and searched. Hopefully, looters hadn’t come through and stripped the little resources that might have been left behind. There was a smaller, wooden foundation behind the house. Much like what he and Ryan had come across during their trek, it was probably an old barn. He dug through the dirt, coming across some screws, bolts, and a couple of screwdrivers that had been buried in the ground. While not exactly what he was looking for, he still pocketed them. Hoarder’s mentality was the name of the game and the screwdrivers could be used for multiple things.
Steve padded toward the edge of the land. The pasture looked like crops had grown in recent years. Though the wind had come through, rows of dirt still appeared against the hard earth. Those plow rows never truly went away after decades of farming it in the same exact fashion. He wished he had grabbed a flashlight back at the shelter. The only light illuminating the ground below was the moon, so he couldn’t see much. He wished he knew exactly what had been farmed here. Cotton, corn, peanuts, and milo were common crops for the area. They could do a lot of things with all of those items, and cotton and peanuts didn’t need much rain.
Taking another long glance, Steve made a mental note to remember the farm. He’d have to come back and check for volunteer plants and other supplies. If he could find a plow that would make work easier. If he could come across a tractor, it would be like he won the lottery. If he did find one, the chances that it was working were slim, but Ryan was a mechanic. He could get him to work on it when he got back from Fox Lake. Was working on a tractor much different than a car? Steve had done his fair share of working on his own farm equipment. If the two of them worked together, they would definitely be able to figure it out.
Looking to the south, he saw a mangled pumpjack. An oil tank sat beside it, torn to bits as if the metal was a toy. Ryan had mentioned oil and the need to come up with ways to save it. Seeing the damaged equipment was a harsh realization that the chances of salvaging the precious commodity was slim. Having it on hand would be very helpful if they did come up with a way to get it to town.
He needed to get back to Harper Springs before the sun came up and he still wanted to get to his place. The ride to the random farm hadn’t taken long but it put him off schedule. Walking back to the horse, his heart skipped a beat when he saw a woman standing under one of the trees near the foundation. Her hair was matted to her face and dirt was caked on her arms and cheeks. Her clothes were thin and practically falling off.
“Ma’am?” Steve held his hands up to let it be known that he wasn’t going to hurt her. It crossed his mind that she could be trouble. Could she be sick? What if a looter was using her as bait? He hated that he resorted to that assumption immediately but it was the world they lived in now.
“Help me, please.” Her voice shook and she mimicked Steve, raising her hands up.
Steve took a couple of steps forward but moved slowly. “Sure. What is...”
“I haven’t eaten in days. You got any water?” She licked her lips and by the looks of it, her frail body was malnourished.
He tossed her his canteen and she caught it, immediately unscrewing the lid and taking large gulps. She didn’t let up for a few seconds and pulled it away, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She looked exhausted but behind her tired face showed beauty, and even though Steve didn’t know the woman, his instincts were telling him that she wasn’t part of a looting gang out to take advantage of others.
“I’ve got a horse. Want to ride with me back to town?”
“Is that what that is?” She pointed toward the paint and smirked. “Which town are you going to?” She took another drink before screwing the lid back on and tossing it back to Steve.
Steve wasn’t sure how to take her sarcasm but it didn’t matter. She needed help and it was his turn to reciprocate Ryan’s favor to him. “Harper Springs. Some of the survivors have gathered there. We are all staying in a shelter at one of the churches. There isn’t much food but there’s some stuff to eat. And showers so you can clean up. I bet you could use some downtime.”
She scoffed and stepped toward him. “How do I know you’re not some bad guy out wondering around?”
“You’ve ran across them too, huh?”
“I escaped a group. We were over in New Mexico and somehow I found my way here.”
“New Mexico?” Steve tried to hide the surprise in his voice. “How in the world did you make it this far?”
“We were just on the border. Not as far as you’re thinking.”