“That’s my final word on the subject, Jake,” Abe said.
Jake fumed inwardly. Once again his dad thought he knew best. What did he care, anyway? He’d left their mom years ago, so what did it matter to him if she was dead or alive?
Taylor stood, rubbed his stomach, and put on a fake smile that it hurt Jake to see. “Who’s hungry? Let’s go eat Thanksgiving dinner!”
“Someone’s talking sense at last,” said Abe with a weak laugh.
“Cody can have mine,” Jake said quickly.
“Look, buddy, would you just—”
“I’m not hungry.”
Abe stood, his eyes full of sadness. “Suit yourself, Jake. But I’m going to eat your deer and be thankful that your mother is alive, and that I’ve been reunited with my two boys. I lost you two once before, and I won’t risk losing you again.”
That night Jake dozed for brief spells but woke frequently to listen to Taylor’s deep breathing on the bed that they shared. He could also hear Abe’s snores from across the room. His dad slept under a quilt their mom had made, a bright patchwork creation with no two pieces the same.
As Jake lay awake, the argument he’d had with his dad played back over and over in his head. He didn’t know how his dad and Taylor could be sound asleep, knowing that on the other side of the country some thugs were plotting to kill their mother. He couldn’t stand how helpless it made him feel, not being able to do anything.
His dad was so sure he was right. But he’d more or less admitted it was a mistake to have chosen his dream over his family. So, what if he was wrong this time too? Jake knew he couldn’t take that chance—not with his mom’s life on the line. No. He wasn’t going to wait around for Abe to do something.
Lying there, Jake made a plan.
Just before dawn he heard Abe get up and stoke the fire in the woodstove. Soon he smelled coffee. Jake pretended to be asleep as he heard the sounds of Abe getting dressed. Finally he heard his dad leave the cabin to check on his traplines. It hadn’t snowed overnight—so Abe had been wrong about that, too.
After dressing quickly, Jake shook Taylor. Cody had been snuggled under the blankets and popped his head out between the two boys.
Taylor moaned. “Leave me alone.”
“Taylor, wake up,” Jake insisted.
His brother rolled toward him. Taylor’s sandy hair stuck out in all directions. “What . . . what is it? Is it morning?”
“Not yet, but get up.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re getting out of here.”
Taylor’s eyes sprang fully open. “What are you talking about?”
Jake climbed out of bed and stood up. “We’re going to get Mom.”
“Dad changed his mind?” Taylor asked, sitting up.
“No. He just left to check the traps. We need to be gone before he gets back.”
“We’re leaving Dad?”
“Yeah.”
“Forever?”
“I don’t know,” Jake said. It was the truth. “You heard Mom’s voice, Taylor. She needs us, and if Dad won’t go get her right away, then we need to.”
“But how?”
“Taylor, we’ll figure it out. We did it once, and we can do it again. Besides, we know what we’re doing this time, don’t we?”
Taylor hesitated. “I guess . . .”
“So, c’mon. We’ve got to hurry.”
Reluctantly Taylor got out of bed, followed by Cody. Working quickly, the boys dug out the backpacks their friend Skeet had given them before they’d found their dad. Unlike when they’d left Pittsburgh, the boys knew exactly what they needed to survive. Jake ticked off the items in his head one by one as he stuffed them into his pack.
Two water bottles. Sleeping bag. Map. Compass. Pocketknife. Portable shovel. First aid kit. Flashlight. Rain poncho. Ground cloth. Extra socks and underwear. Two extra shirts. Rope. Cord. Matches. Ziplock bags. Sierra cup. Knife, fork, and spoon. Two-quart pot. Ax . . .
By the time he’d finished, Taylor was nearly done too, but he seemed to be stalling.
“You have your poncho and warm clothes?” Jake asked.
“Sure,” he replied. “Listen, Jake, Dad’s gonna be mad. I don’t know if this is the right—”
“I don’t care if he’s mad or not,” Jake interrupted. “The only thing that matters right now is Mom.”
From its secret hiding place behind their bed, Jake pulled out the bag full of cash they’d taken from Bull. Both boys stared at it for a moment. Then Jake tossed it to Taylor.
The last thing Jake picked up was the notebook he’d bought on their trip to town. It was already half-full of the things they’d seen and done since coming to Wyoming. As he stuffed the journal into his pack, Taylor asked him, “Don’t you think we should at least leave a note?”
Jake hesitated.
He didn’t leave a note when he left us seven years ago.
But then he tore off a piece of paper from the notebook and gave it to Taylor. “Here, you write it.”
Taylor scribbled something on the piece of paper and impaled it on a nail overhanging the cabin’s sink.
The two boys hoisted their packs and took one last look around them.
“You ready?” Jake asked.
“Yeah . . . I guess so.”
“Coming, Cody?” Jake asked.
The terrier wagged his tail, willing to follow the boys wherever they led him.
With stars still shining overhead, they stepped out of the cabin and into the wild. . . .
7 Morning found the two brothers and Cody sitting on a large lichen-covered rock next to a stream winding through a valley of pines and firs. Ice rimmed the edge of the stream, forming a thin sheet over the shallow water. The boys had pushed hard as they’d climbed the mountain passes that separated their dad’s world from their goal—the highway. They’d decided against heading into town and trying to find a ride, in case they ran into anyone who knew Abe. Eventually, their muscles had screamed for mercy, forcing them to stop for a brief rest.
“Do you think Dad will follow us?” Taylor asked, tearing off a piece of venison jerky with his teeth.
“Why would he?” said Jake, chewing some of the tough meat. “He’s where he wants to be, isn’t he? He isn’t about to admit he’s wrong.”
“But he loves us . . . loves having us around. He said that last night. He’s gotta be worried about us, for sure.”
“Yeah? Well, if he cares so much, why did we have to find him, huh? If this place is so great, why didn’t he come and get us?”
“Quit being a jerk,” Taylor said, looking down. “He sent us loads of letters—it’s not his fault we never got them.”
Jake fed Cody another piece of jerky and looked down at the map spread between them.
“Whatever,” he said. “Even if he does follow us, we’ll get to the highway before him. We had at least an hour’s head start, maybe more, and we’re almost as fast as he is. You might even be faster.”
Usually Taylor would have smiled at that. He didn’t now.
Jake gazed down at the map. “Once we get to the road, we should be able to catch a ride. With any luck we can get to Riverton or, better yet, Casper, where we can buy bus tickets. Who knows? With luck we might make it back to Pittsburgh in two days.”
“And help Mom,” Taylor said. The thought seemed to cheer him up.
Jake smiled. “Right. So let’s do it.”
They helped each other back into their packs, and then Jake looked down at their dog, who pranced in circles, raring to go.
“Lead the way, Cody!”
They reached the highway two hours later. The sun lay buried behind a layer of cloud as thick as grease-fire smoke. The cold was really beginning to bite, and by the time they reached the road, the first few flakes of snow had begun drifting down out of the sky.
We’re getting out of here just in time, Jake thought. If they’d waited, as Abe had wanted to do, they’d never have been able to leave the cabi
n.
They found a wide patch in the road that would allow vehicles to pull over, and Jake stuck out his thumb. He wasn’t sure if you were supposed to smile at the oncoming traffic or not. On their way out to Wyoming last summer, they’d hopped a freight train, caught a ride with a trucker they’d met at a truck stop, and then stowed away on a tour bus. Hitchhiking, though, he only knew from movies.
“I hope we don’t get picked up by someone super-creepy,” said Taylor.
Jake had been thinking the same thing. “Did you bring your slingshot?” he asked.
“Got it right here.”
“Then, we’re covered. Besides, we’ve got the world’s best guard dog, don’t we?”
Taylor tried to smile but barely pulled it off.
After ten minutes Jake felt numb and frustrated. The highway was almost empty. The few cars and trucks that passed didn’t even slow down to give the boys a glance. The snow was falling faster now.
“Let’s put our ponchos on,” Jake said.
“Maybe we should start walking,” Taylor suggested, glancing over his shoulder.
“Let’s give it a few more minutes,” Jake said.
Taylor shook his head and sat down on his pack. With his poncho on, he looked like a little tent. Cody crawled under the poncho with him.
Cold and worry gnawed on Jake as they waited.
Dad will have found Taylor’s note by now.
Jake expected to see Abe at any moment, running at them, his face full of hurt and betrayal. Maybe he’d have the cops with him. Either way, he’d try to stop them.
He glanced over his shoulder one last time. “Okay,” he sighed. “Let’s start walking.”
“Look!” Taylor yelled.
An old Volkswagen camper van was swerving off the road and slowing down next to them. The two boys sprinted for it, hollering until it stopped.
With a rattle of rusty metal, the VW’s side door flew open.
A girl with brown hair stuck her head out. “Pretty cold to be backpacking.”
“Uh, yeah,” Jake panted. “Can you give us a ride?”
“Where you headin’, dudes?” a guy with curly blond hair asked from behind the steering wheel. Jake noted another girl perched in the front passenger seat, also staring at them. They looked like college kids.
“Uh, we were trying to get to Casper,” Jake said.
“Cool,” said the driver. “We’re not going that far, but we can drop you in Riverton.”
“Or at the junction to Casper—what’s that called?” said the girl in the front seat.
“Shoshoni,” answered the girl who’d opened the door.
“Any good to you?” asked the driver.
“Awesome. Is it okay if our dog comes too?”
On cue Cody leaped up into the van. The two girls squealed in unison. “He’s so cute!”
Jake took that as a yes.
“Climb in,” said the driver. “Just throw your stuff in the back.”
Jake and Taylor hauled their backpacks into the camper van and slid the door shut. Moments later the boys and Cody were seated comfortably in the van’s main compartment, warm, dry, and trundling noisily down the highway.
“Oh, I’m Brittney by the way,” said the girl who’d opened the door. “That’s Destiny, and Chase is driving.”
“Yo, what’s up?” Chase said, holding up his hand. “I ain’t gonna ask what you two little dudes are doing, all on your own, miles from the nearest town. None of my business. We all got our road to travel, y’know?”
“Sure,” Jake said, not knowing what else to say.
“Just make sure you find yourselves someplace safe and warm to stay tonight? The snow’s gonna come down hard and deep.”
“Chase knows his snow,” said Brittney, giving Jake a wink.
The driver laughed. “That’s what brought us out here. Gonna check out the boarding at a place called Meadowlark, up near Ten Sleep.”
Jake noticed half a dozen snowboards stacked behind the backseat.
“Nice,” he said.
The VW didn’t seem to go faster than fifty miles per hour or so, but Jake didn’t care. At least they were on their way, putting distance between themselves and Abe’s cabin.
“See, Taylor?”
“Huh?”
“I told you this would be a piece of cake.”
Taylor shrugged, looking far from convinced. “So far so good, I guess.”
Jake yawned, stretched, and relaxed. He closed his eyes and let the thrash metal music blasting from the speakers wash him away for a while.
A loud noise jolted him awake. By the looks on their faces, the others had heard it too.
“What was that?” Destiny asked.
Chase looked over at her. “I dunno, babe, but the van’s still going. I think we’re okay.”
“Uh, guys?” Taylor shouted over the music. “Is there supposed to be black smoke coming out of the back of the van?”
“What?” Chase shouted, turning around while still gripping the steering wheel. “Oh, crap!”
He hit the brakes, and the van swerved onto a wide pull-out on the highway. Chase flung open his door and leaped out of the vehicle. After yanking open the side door, he pushed aside a pile of bags and luggage and pulled a small fire extinguisher out from under one of the seats. He ran to the back of the van and tried to open a rear panel, but jerked his hand back.
“It’s hot!” he shouted.
“Well, duh, it’s on fire!” Brittney shouted.
Taylor and Jake leaped out of the van into the driving snow, and Taylor took off the baseball hat he was wearing. “Here, use this!”
Using the cap as a hot pad, Chase again tried to open the rear panel. This time it sprang open—releasing black smoke, and flames.
“Oh God!” Destiny moaned.
Cody began barking, so Jake picked him up and backed away from the flaming engine.
Chase pulled a pin on the fire extinguisher he was holding and sprayed white foam onto the fire. The flames died immediately, but black smoke kept pouring out of the van.
“What happened?” asked Brittney.
Chase gingerly approached the engine. As the smoke cleared, he peered into it.
“We cooked it. That’s what happened,” he said, and groaned, pulling out a black wire that had most of its insulation melted off.
Jake set Cody down on the ground, and the brothers drew nearer.
“Can you fix it?” Taylor asked.
Chase flung the wire away in annoyance. “No, can you?”
“Um . . . no.”
“The oil warning light’s been on for a while. I guess we really were low and the engine overheated.” Chase sucked his teeth. “Well, whatever happened, we’re not going anywhere for a while.”
Jake let out a groan.
While Chase and the girls discussed what they should do, Jake pulled Taylor to one side and rummaged in his bag for the map.
“Now what?” murmured Taylor, staring through the falling snow at a sky as gray as an old photograph. “I knew that rustbucket was a death trap!”
“We keep moving, is what,” Jake shot back.
“Look. Riverton’s about another twenty-five miles,” said Taylor, pointing at the highway on the map. “We could hitch another ride. . . . Or we could go back . . .”
Jake frowned, ignoring Taylor’s last suggestion. “It took us forever to get this ride. We might not get another one. And if they call the police for help . . .”
He pointed to the map and said, “We’re in the foothills of the Owl Creek Mountains. See? Check out this road here. It looks like it heads almost straight over the mountains and could bring us into Thermopolis. We could walk it.”
“It’s forty miles, Jake!”
“Yeah, but most of it’s along dirt roads. We can cover that in a few days. We’ve done it before. And there’s less chance of Dad or the police finding us.”
Taylor looked doubtful but said, “I guess we have to do whatever it takes t
o get back to Mom.”
Back by the smoldering van, Chase was looking downcast. “Van’s junked, man. We’re gonna have to get it towed back to Jackson.”
“Sorry,” said Taylor.
“Yeah, sorry,” said Jake. “Look, ah . . . we’d better hit the road. We’ll call our mom. She can come and pick us up.”
Chase just nodded. “Your mom, huh? Whatever you say.”
“Thanks for the ride.”
Chase waved his hand. “Just wish we could’ve taken you further. You guys stay warm, okay? There’s a big storm on the way, but I’m not going to be boarding anytime soon.”
A good three or four inches of snow had already stacked up along the side of the road.
“We’ll be okay,” Jake said, hoping he sounded convincing.
“Here,” Chase said, digging into a duffel bag in the back of the van. He pulled out a pair of thin, metallic thermal blankets, along with two tightly knit wool ski hats. “These are for when you hit the slopes.”
“Uh, we’re not going skiing,” said Jake, “but these’ll be great. Thanks.”
“What? No skiing?” Brittney said. “Have you ever snowboarded before?”
Jake and Taylor looked at each other. “Um, no. We’ve sledded.”
“We’ve got to do something about that.”
She reached in to where the snowboards were stacked, and pulled out an old one covered in a graffiti pattern.
“It’s a little beat up, but you’ll have fun with it. I always did,” Brittney said, handing the snowboard to Taylor.
“Thanks!” said Taylor, running his hand over the smooth surface.
“I, uh, guess we’d better get going,” Jake said.
“Namaste,” said Chase solemnly. “May the wind be ever at your back.”
Taylor strapped the snowboard to his backpack, and the girls helped them get loaded up. They said their good-byes and began the long walk down the highway, without looking back.
Above them the weather began to close in. Soon the light gray clouds turned a deep charcoal color. Heavy, fat flakes began to fall, kissing Jake’s face with deathly cold. As he walked on into the swirling snow and the deepening darkness, he realized it was far too late to turn back now.
The Journey Home Page 4