“These itsy bitsy baby strollers. They don’t hold diddly squat.”
She turned to her father and said, “Dad, don’t you remember those nomads pushing shopping carts down the highway? They hold ten times as much as these things, and they’re just as easy to push.”
She was absolutely right.
And Dave felt absolutely foolish.
He had indeed seen a few highway nomads pushing shopping carts they’d obtained from local supermarkets. The carts seemed to hold all their belongings as well as food and water.
When they took a break during the day and shade was in short supply the nomads strung a sheet between two of the carts and huddled beneath it.
Dave even saw one instance where two such carts were attached together simply by tying them to wooden studs on each side. A man was pushing both carts, in tandem, with seemingly no more effort than he’d have pushing a single cart.
He picked up Beth and twirled her about, then asked, “How’d you get to be so smart in just eight years, when it took your sister seventeen?”
Lindsey threw a couch pillow at him.
Beth beamed.
And Dave had a second stop to make when he went to town.
On the edge of Ely was an abandoned supermarket that was mostly boarded up and forgotten.
“Mostly” because some of the boards had been torn off by vandals or people needing firewood.
It was “mostly” forgotten except by transients, for the locals already knew there was no longer anything to eat or drink there.
But there were other things.
This was the market where Dave procured the bug bombs he used to kill John Parker and his men.
These days there were precious few things on the shelves at the market.
Cat litter.
Furniture polish.
Dishwasher pods.
Dave didn’t need anything from the inside, though.
There was only one item on his shopping list on this particular day: four shopping carts.
Preferably four with working wheels, for the bane of every shopper was that cart with one wheel that dragged and another wheel which spun around and never touched the ground.
He found them. In fact, he could have taken ten if he’d wanted them.
They were the old fashioned stainless steel version. The market manager apparently didn’t believe in the more modern plastic version which was only half the weight.
No, these were sturdy.
And they weighed a ton.
Dave was surprised at the weight.
But then again, how often does one get the opportunity to pick up a shopping cart and load it into the bed of a truck?
Or, more rightly stated, how often would one want to?
Once back at Karen’s farm house he off-loaded the carts into the front yard.
“One for each of us,” he announced to Lindsey, who was sitting on the porch swing waiting for him to get back.
Dave grabbed two bottles of cool water from Karen’s refrigerator and headed back out to his work site.
“Can I go along?” Lindsey asked.
Dave smiled.
It was nice that his oldest daughter would rather hang out with him than with her sister and her mom.
“Mom’s being a real pain today and Beth is incorrigible,” she told him. “You’re the lesser of three evils.”
Oh.
Okay.
But he’d take it.
“Sure, honey. But grab some more water. We’ll be out there until late afternoon, maybe close to dark. I don’t want you to dehydrate.”
Dave’s plan from the beginning was to take the pen Tommy had made for the cattle and expand it to include a second hidden meadow. The second meadow was narrow but much longer and would give the horses room to run.
He explained his logic to Sarah and Karen.
“Cattle don’t need a lot of room to roam. All they do is amble around all day munching on grass and pooping all over the place.
“Horses, on the other hand, poop all day too. But they need space. They weren’t born to amble. They were born to fly like the wind.”
Karen pointed out the obvious.
“Dave, they’re old. Their flying days are over.”
“True. But I’ll bet they can get up a fair gallop occasionally when the mood strikes them. How are they gonna do that if they’re in a cramped pen?”
Chapter 21
They were almost ready to go.
The previous day Dave had moved two wagon loads of Karen’s belongings to a house on Walnut Avenue, a block from Ely’s town square.
It was a beautiful Victorian, built in the early 1900s, with a regal elegance and a spotty past.
The original owner committed suicide in the house in 1921.
The previous owner did likewise.
That didn’t deter Karen much, though.
After all, her farm house was a death house too.
She’d tried to trade her farm for the house in Ely, but the city council refused her offer.
“It’s a generous offer,” the mayor said. “But the town is saddled with more abandoned properties than we can handle now.
“We don’t need any more property. What we need are more residents. Without more residents we cannot begin to recover and to become the vibrant community we once were.
“You bring your children and move into town. If you live in the Walnut Avenue house, we will waive the unpaid taxes and the house is yours.”
It was a no-brainer.
Not only did Karen get to move to town, where she could raise her children in relative safety, but she could also work the land on her old farm.
She could make a living by growing fruits and vegetables and selling or trading them on the town square.
Perhaps she could even bake and sell her famous pecan and apple pies.
She was hesitant to see her sister Sarah and the others go, but they fully planned to see one another again.
She made Dave promise that if the world wasn’t back to normal five years hence he’d bring them back to Ely.
All knew it would be a very trying thousand mile journey. And all hoped against hope that the world would indeed be “back to normal” before the five years was up. But if it wasn’t Karen at least had Dave’s word they’d come back to visit.
The shopping carts were loaded.
The go-cart Dave had bartered for and surprised Sal with was gassed up and ready to go.
The old man had a difficult time getting on and off of the squat machine.
But it sure beat the heck out of walking.
Everyone was ready to go, and was waiting for Dave to return from his final mission at the farm.
An hour before he’d led Sal’s horses into the forest to deposit them at their new home.
At the hidden meadow he led them though barbed wire he’d snipped beforehand and then repaired the snipped wire behind them.
He stood back and eyed the meadow, from one end to the other.
It wasn’t the best of accommodations, but it was adequate.
It would allow them to live out the rest of their lives in relative safety and reasonable comfort.
And they deserved that much. They were good horses and faithful and trusted friends.
Most of all, they’d served their purpose for Sal and the others. They’d gotten them where they needed to go, with nary a complaint or revolt.
They deserved the chance to retire and to relax.
Dave finished repairing the wire and took the bag of dried apples from Cody’s back.
He carried the heavy bag to the center of the clearing, amazed at how it dragged him down. He was getting older and wasn’t in the tip top shape he maintained when he was in the Marines.
That was understandable, for he hadn’t had the time to exercise in recent months.
Going to the gym had taken a back seat to surviving from day to day.
Of course, that would change in the weeks and months ahead.
After walking more than a thousand miles they’d all be stronger and likely leaner.
In the center of the clearing he used his survival knife to cut open the bag of dried apples.
He slung them near and far, in every direction.
Shiloh and Cody would find them, one at a time, while grazing.
It would likely take them months to find them all, but that was okay.
They weren’t going anywhere.
He suspected that finding the treats would be special moments for the big animals. Something which would brighten their days.
And if horses could feel happiness, something which would make them happy.
The soft earth, in time, would allow Shiloh’s injuries to heal. He’d run again, albeit for short distances.
And they’d both enjoy their freedom, such as it was.
Dave thought of saying a final goodbye, but decided it was unnecessary.
They were on the other side of the clearing a full hundred yards away, Shiloh standing in the middle of the creek, Cody drinking from it.
He couldn’t say for sure, but they looked content.
No need for a human barging in and spoiling the moment.
He left them there and walked away, making his way back to Karen’s farm.
He was greeted by Beth, who was the first to see him approaching and ran out to meet him.
“Are you sure they’re going to be safe, Daddy?”
“Nothing is certain anymore, Peanut. But there are few predators in these woods anymore.
“They shouldn’t be attacked by anything. And hopefully man won’t stumble across them. They’ll have plenty of food and water and shelter from the sun. Hopefully they’ll live out the time they have left grazing and keeping each other company.
“I think they’ll be all right.”
He assessed the others, milling about beneath the huge oak tree in the center of the farmhouse yard.
They were the motliest of motley crews.
An odd mix of young and old, able-bodied and slightly crippled.
“Everybody ready?”
He looked from face to face.
They were a mixture of excitement and dread.
Each of them was deep in their own thoughts.
“Okay, let’s get this show on the road. No pun intended.”
They struck out, Dave taking point.
It was to be the final leg in Dave’s great journey.
Chapter 22
Sarah and the girls had loaded the shopping carts while Dave was finishing up the fence.
Dave got the heaviest one, chock full of jarred food, weapons and ammunition.
Beth announced herself the official tester.
“If I can push it, even a little bit, it needs more weight,” she mischievously said.
She got a twinkle in her eye when she tried to push it and couldn’t get it to budge, no matter how much she grunted and shoved. “Good enough.” She said.
Sarah’s was a bit lighter, with the remainder of the jarred goods and dry stock.
Lindsey’s held four cases of bottled water Karen had stashed behind a false wall in the basement and three changes of clothes for everyone.
Beth’s held two four-man tents and five sleeping bags.
“Hey, mine’s piled higher than everybody else’s,” she complained.”
“Oh, shut up, you little twerp,” Lindsey responded. “Yours is also lighter than everybody else’s. It doesn’t matter how high it is.”
“It does if I can’t see where I’m going!”
It was a good point.
Sarah rearranged everything, taking two sleeping bags from the cart and stuffing them onto the rack beneath it.
“Better?” she asked.
“Perfect! Thanks, Mom.”
Beth stuck out her tongue at her sister, who huffed and looked away.
“Okay,” Dave said. “Your mother and I will take point. You guys follow behind us.”
They hadn’t gone fifty feet before Beth asked the first of what would be thousands of questions.
“Dad, if you and Mom are both doing the point thingy, isn’t that two points?”
Lindsey rolled her eyes and said, “Can it, twerp.”
“Mommmmm!”
Sarah said, “Stop it you two. Ten minutes of quiet time for you both.”
They both hated quiet time. Lindsey because she felt grown up enough to get to ignore rules meant for children.
Beth because it physically pained her to go more than five minutes without talking.
Neither liked it, but both abided by it.
And fumed while they waited for the ten minutes to be up.
Neither of them knew it then, but since Dave and Sarah possessed the only watches in the group, that ten minutes would actually be almost thirty.
Their parents knew them well.
Given a mandatory cooling off period they’d both forget the other’s transgressions, and at the end they’d be besties again.
Sarah whispered to Dave, “This is gonna be an awfully long trip. We’re not even out of the driveway yet.”
The walk into Ely was bittersweet.
Karen and her children were looking forward to settling into their new home in Ely, yet were dreading parting company with Sarah and the others.
They’d been through a lot since the blackout.
They’d survived horrific times together and mourned the loss of other loved ones.
They’d helped one another get through it all, and it wouldn’t be easy to say goodbye.
But Sarah and Dave were looking forward to going back to their own home.
Karen didn’t want to make the move.
Separating was, therefore, inevitable.
Karen asked Kara to stay with her for the time being.
Neither knew how long it would last, but Karen suspected it wouldn’t be long.
“Once you move into town every single man within ten miles will come out of the woodwork to court you,” she said. “You’re by far the prettiest girl in the county, and it won’t take a smart man long to ask you to marry him.”
Kara blushed and said, “Nobody will want a widow with a small child.”
“Bull,” Sal told her. “If I was about two hundred years younger I’d be chasing you myself, child or not.”
Kara accepted Karen’s generous offer and for the foreseeable future they’d be housemates.
Sarah was glad. For it would help each of them battle the loneliness.
They parted ways at Karen’s new house; said their goodbyes and wished each other well.
Both groups said they’d pray for the other.
And now, as Dave and family walked past the Ely city limit sign, the thousand mile journey to San Antonio was officially underway.
Chapter 23
Amy wasn’t one who put a lot of stock in the need to follow instructions.
When Monica disappeared through the fence like Alice crawling through the tunnel into Wonderland Amy expected her to come right back.
When Monica spent ten minutes instead, inspecting what was left of the regal old house behind Dave’s, Amy became worried.
She put Robert in charge of keeping the rabbits away from the trap door and went through it herself.
“Mama, what is this place?”
“Honey, I asked you to stay in the yard and keep the rabbits from getting away.”
“Robert’s doing that. I figured he could surely handle something as simple as that without screwing it all up.”
Monica couldn’t help but smile.
And she couldn’t reprimand her young daughter.
She was headstrong and just a tad bit defiant at age eight.
But Monica suspected it was just those qualities that would help her survive in the years ahead.
“It’s an old house that Beth’s family apparently used for firewood,” she explained.
“That’s the ugliest fence I’ve ever seen. Why is it so tall? And so black?”
; “They were preparing this yard to be their garden. There are a lot of corn kernels in the garage. Corn grows very tall. It would be visible to the neighbors over the top of the other fence.
“They had to raise the height of the fence to hide the corn, and whatever else they were planning to grow here.”
“Why don’t they just plant their corn in their own yard?”
“Well, I’m guessing it was because of the bunnies.”
“Huh?”
“The bunnies. They would have eaten the corn as soon as it popped out of the ground. Just like they’re eating all the grass and weeds in Beth’s back yard.
“It might be that their yard was too small, also. This yard is three times as big as theirs. It takes a lot of room to grow enough crops to sustain three or four people for a whole year.
“But if they could use this yard to grow their crops and the smaller yard to raise their rabbits they’d have plenty of food.”
Something just struck Amy.
“You mean they were raising the rabbits to eat them?”
“I think so, honey.”
“Yuck! But nobody eats rabbits.”
“Sure they do. You’ve been eating rabbit.”
“Huh? I have not.”
“Honey, that jerky you’ve been snacking on since we’ve been here? That’s rabbit.”
Amy made a gagging face.
“You can’t be serious.”
“I’m sorry, honey. I am.
“And I hate to tell you this, but we’ll eventually eat all those bunnies in the back yard over there.”
“Really?”
“Yes, honey. In fact, it’s important you learn how to kill a rabbit and to cook it before I… before I leave you. Do you think you can do that?”
“Kill and cook a rabbit? No way Jose.”
Monica didn’t press the point. It was much better to just let her daughter stew on the whole thing for a few days.
Maybe then, when Monica announced it was time to capture and kill one of the rabbits she’d be more comfortable with it.
There was one thing she needed to know, though.
“It’s important you and Robert don’t think of the rabbits as pets. If you do, or if you get attached to them, it’ll be harder for you to eat them later on.”
“Then how should we look at them if not as pets?”
Texas Bound: Alone: Book 11 Page 7