by Alex Gunwick
Luke picked up the AR-15 and ejected the magazine. It felt light, maybe five rounds left, but better than nothing. He slammed it back into the gun. He laid it on the passenger’s seat for easy access.
He used the rest of the water bottle to wash the blood off of his hands and face. His shirt was saturated from carrying the man. Suffocated by the pungent odor of blood and sweat, he stripped off his shirt. He dug through his Get Home Bag and grabbed a spare camo-green T-shirt.
He’d smelled worse and had been through worse in Iraq. But he wasn’t in the Middle East. He was in America. And in the span of three days, he’d been ambushed, shot at, wounded, and he’d only traveled two hundred miles so far. When he reached Buttonwillow, he’d have over one hundred and fifty miles to go, if he got lucky. If they didn’t have the interstate closed.
After cracking open a fresh water bottle, he pulled a picture of his wife and kids out of his bag. He ran a thumb over their faces.
“I’m coming home,” he whispered. “Stay safe until I get there.”
He slid the picture back into a Ziploc bag and returned it to his pack.
The adrenaline had worn off, leaving him shaky and hungry. He tore into a Snickers and polished off a bag of beef jerky. According to his map, he was 72 miles away from Buttonwillow. He’d have to pass through the small towns of Avenal and Reef Station. He prayed he wouldn’t run into any more trouble along the way.
Liz struck a match and lit the candle in the center of the table. Flickering light illuminated two bowls of chili. Kyle leaned over his bowl and shoveled steaming food into his mouth. She poked at her chili. As soon as they’d arrived at the cabin, the adrenaline of fleeing their home wore off, leaving her shaky and exhausted. But she couldn’t sleep until they’d at least secured the house.
“After dinner, I’m going to set up trip wires in the forest,” she said.
“Can I help?”
“No. I want you to stay in the house. Barricade the door after I leave. I won’t be gone too long.”
“Are we going to set up traps and stuff?” he asked.
“We’ll do more to fortify the area tomorrow. We should be safe tonight as long as we weren’t followed. It’s highly unlikely anyone knows we’re here. No one should even know the cabin exists.”
“What if someone finds us?”
“You’ll be safe inside,” she said. “I’ll take the shotgun with me. But I don’t want you to worry. Everything’s going to be fine.”
She spoke with more conviction than she felt. They were out in the woods, miles away from anyone they knew. Sure, they had guns and ways of barricading the doors, but if someone was determined enough, would she be able to hold him off?
She swallowed and directed her attention to the chili. Spicy and warm, it helped keep the chill out of her heart. She missed Luke with every fiber of her being. If only he were here. Where was he? Was he safe? Did he miss her?
A ball of tension tightened her stomach. She couldn’t take another bite, so she pushed the bowl away.
“Are you going to eat that?” Kyle asked.
“No. I’m full.”
“Can I give it to Justice?”
“Only if you’re willing to endure doggie farts all night,” she said.
“Justice, come here, boy.”
The dog scrambled down the stairs from the loft. He missed the last step and fell ass over teakettle onto his face. Unfazed, he jumped up and rushed to Kyle’s side. He woofed as if to say, You didn’t see that happen.
As Kyle lowered the bowl, Justice lapped at the chili, sloshing it over the edge. He licked every last drop up off the floor. He sat back on his haunches and looked at her expectantly.
“I don’t have any more,” she said.
Justice cocked his head to one side.
“You can have some kibble later.”
He let out a satisfied woof. She’d adopted Justice from a kill shelter when he was just a puppy. She couldn’t imagine life without him. Having him here was incredibly important. Not only would he provide fun companionship to Kyle, but he’d also be another layer of protection against unknown threats. She could leave him at the cabin while she set up the trip wires.
“I’m going to get the supplies,” she said. “Want to help me tie bells onto fishing line?”
“Sure!”
She walked into the mudroom next to the kitchen and opened the first cabinet. After pulling out several cardboard boxes, she finally found the one labeled Defensive Perimeter.
The box jingled as she carried it back into the kitchen. She set it on the table and pulled the flaps open. A fishing box full of bells and several rolls of fishing line would do the trick. She’d laughed at Luke when he’d suggested they practice creating trip wires. Now she was glad they’d done a dry run.
“Do you remember how to do this?” she asked.
“Yep.”
“Every foot add a butterfly loop knot with a bell to the fishing line.”
“I know, Mom,” he said, exasperated. “I’ve been tying them since I was ten.”
“It’s really important that it’s done right.”
He rolled his eyes as he picked up a spool of fishing line. After he’d successfully tied the first bell to the line, she turned her attention to her own line.
“How long should I make them?” he asked.
“Ten feet. If I need them to be any longer, I’ll tie them together outside.”
“Okay.”
They spent the next hour tying bells to multiple ten foot sections of line. She carefully placed each line into a plastic grocery bag so they wouldn’t get tangled together. In total, they ended up with ten strings of bells. They jingled as she picked up the bags.
“After I leave, put the two-by-fours across the doors.”
“Okay,” Kyle said.
They’d installed brackets in three places across the front and back doors. Six two-by-fours were propped against the wall.
She grabbed the shotgun off the chair next to her and slung it over her shoulder. As she headed for the door, Justice trotted beside her.
“Make sure you keep him inside until I get back,” she told Kyle.
“I will. Come here, boy.”
Justice chuffed and ran to Kyle’s side.
She affixed a headlamp to her forehead before heading out. Although she didn’t want to have to use the light, she’d need to be able to see to tie knots. She waited on the porch until she heard the two-by-fours slide into place.
A warm breeze blew through the canyon. A thousand stars twinkled in the night sky. Even with light from the cities polluting the sky, she could easily see Sirius in the constellation Canis Major. Before the bombs, she’d spent many nights contemplating the nature of the universe. Were we really alone? If there were aliens out there, why hadn’t they made contact?
She shook the thoughts away before she could fall down an existentialist path. Now wasn’t the time. Later, when they were safe, she would be free to muse about the mysteries of the universe. Right now, she needed to focus on the task at hand.
An old, rusted gate hung from broken hinges near the front of the property. They’d been meaning to fix the gate for the last year, but hadn’t gotten around to it. Since she couldn’t secure it, she ran a line of trip wire from the gate to a small tree on the other side. At about a half a mile from the main road, no one would come across the gate unless they were heading toward the cabin.
Old oak trees and patches of coyote brush dotted the front of the property. It wasn’t enough to keep potential trespassers out, so three years ago they’d planted blackberry bushes. In addition to growing dark, sweet berries, they formed a thick, thorny impenetrable barricade. No one in their right mind would try to get through it.
After checking for breaks in the bushes, she backtracked toward the cabin. She connected an octagon of trip wires around the house at a radius of about forty feet. Tomorrow they could create more trip wires. This would be good enough for the night. She doubted she
’d be able to sleep anyway.
As she finished tying the last bowline to a tree, two beady eyes shimmered in the trees. She bit back a scream. She grabbed the shotgun and pointed it at the hidden animal. Mountain lions lived in the area. They’d been known to kill hikers, so she wasn’t taking any chances.
She pumped a round into the chamber. Her finger dropped to the trigger. As she let out a breath and prepared to shoot, the door to the cabin burst open. Kyle ran out onto the porch.
“Justice!”
She took her finger off the trigger. What was the dog doing outside?
Justice jumped out of the forest, nearly knocking her over in the process. She pointed the gun down at the earth. Her heart pounded. Her damp hands clenched into fists. She’d almost killed him. She’d almost killed their dog.
17
Liz stomped toward the cabin, struggling to contain her explosive anger. When she reached the porch, Kyle was on his knees in front of the dog.
“I told you to keep the door shut,” she snapped.
“It was shut.”
“Then what was Justice doing outside?”
“He escaped out the back door when I wasn’t looking,” Kyle said.
“I almost—” She stopped short, unable to confess her nearly lethal mistake. “When I tell you to do something, you need to do it.”
“Sorry.” His tone wasn’t as contrite as she would have wanted.
“I’m not kidding. Any little mistake could get us killed,” she said.
“Okay. Jeez. I get it. But I think you’re freaking out too much. Who’s going to find us anyway? It’s not like Jason lives out here.”
“Jason who?”
“You know, the guy with the chainsaw from those old movies,” he said.
Old? Ugh! Granted, she’d watched those slasher films in her youth, but was she actually getting old? Was forty really over the hill? Or was she just freaking out because of the dog?
She shooed them inside and jammed the two-by-fours into place. After repeating the process with the back door, she went into the kitchen and poured a glass of water. She headed into the living room and set the shotgun on the coffee table beside the couch. She plopped down and took a long swig of water.
“Are you okay, Mom?”
“I’m tired.”
“You’re freaking out,” he said.
“No I’m not.”
She didn’t want to admit it to Kyle and freak him out, but she was beyond scared. Although she pretended like she had everything under control, she couldn’t think of a time when she’d felt more out of control. Technically, the cabin was the safest place they could be right now. Their home wasn’t safe anymore. Going to a hotel wouldn’t help. They had to be here, in the forest, all alone.
After taking another swig, she stood and walked to the large window at the front of the cabin. She pushed back the curtain and stared into the darkness. Tomorrow she’d get the motion sensor lights up. They could also make more trip wires. Staying busy would keep the panic at bay.
She carried the box of perimeter defense equipment into the living room and set it on the coffee table. Kyle sat near the fireplace. Justice lay in his lap. Both boy and dog eyed her with suspicion, as if they weren’t sure what to make of her silence.
“We should watch a movie,” she said.
“Which one?”
“You pick.”
Kyle rifled through a huge box of DVDs. They didn’t have cable in the cabin, so they’d kept a large supply of movies on hand for entertainment.
He slid a shiny silver disc into the DVD player and hit Play. On screen, an atomic wasteland stretched out across a battlefield. Large humanoid machines stepped through the rubble. Their glowing red eyes scanned the rubble looking for survivors. A small group of men carrying laser guns shot at the machines, fighting a war they couldn’t possibly win. She knew the movie by heart. Terminator 2.
“Can we watch something else?” she asked. “Something funny?”
“But this is my favorite movie.”
“I know but…it’s a little too close to the truth right now.”
“Machines didn’t bomb us, people did,” he said.
“We don’t know that for sure.”
“That’s what they said on the radio. Russia did it.”
“So much for the Cold War,” she said.
“The cold what?”
“Nothing,” she mumbled. Getting into the intricacies of international politics wasn’t at the top of her list of fun conversations to have in the middle of the apocalypse. “Never mind. Go ahead.”
He shrugged and turned his attention back to the TV.
She dug through the defense box. She found six keychain alarms. Each held a little pin. She pulled one free and a high pitched chirping alarm filled the cabin. She jammed the pin back in to make it stop.
“Mom!”
“Guess they still work,” she said.
She pulled a roll of 550 paracord. In the morning, she could go out and tie a few more trip wires farther out. At one hundred and twenty decibels, the keychain alarms would be loud enough that she could set them up a mile out and still hear them well enough.
As she reached into the box, a sharp spike bit into her finger. She pulled back with a yelp.
“What’s wrong?” Kyle asked.
“There’s something sharp under the extra paracord.”
She gingerly removed several items before locating the source. She pulled the strange-looking metal out of the box.
“What on earth…”
“It’s a caltrop,” Kyle said.
“A what?”
“Cal-trop,” he enunciated. “Dad and I made them.”
She turned the caltrop, inspecting the four sharp spikes sticking out of it at various angles.
“When you throw them on the ground, they always land with a spike up,” Kyle said. “So if we need to booby-trap the road, we can spread them all over.”
“How did you make them?” she asked.
“With the soldering iron in the workshop out back.”
“Please tell me Dad didn’t let you solder any.”
“Only a few. I had to wear really thick gloves. It was kind of hard to hold the solder with the gloves, but it was badass,” he said.
If Luke had been in the house, she might have strangled him with her bare hands. How could he have been so irresponsible? Kyle was way too young to be handling an eight hundred-degree soldering iron. She’d have to talk to Luke about it as soon as he arrived. If he arrived.
“How many did you make?” she asked.
“I only made a few, but Dad made about a hundred.”
“Out of nails?”
“Yep. We got some three-quarter-inch nails and cut the heads off.”
“How?” she asked, almost wishing she hadn’t.
“He used a metal saw to cut the heads off.”
“Did he let you use the saw?”
“No. He said it was too dangerous.”
But apparently an eight hundred-degree metal rod wasn’t too dangerous. She shook her head. She couldn’t wait to hear Luke’s explanation for why one was safer than the other. Both were terribly unsafe for a child.
“Where are the rest of the caltrops?” she asked.
“In the shed. He said we needed to keep them outside so they would get a little rusty.”
“Glad we got our tetanus shots,” she grumbled.
“Yeah. We can’t step on them or we’ll get a nail through the foot.”
“That’s the last thing we need.”
“Dad said we needed to make as many combat multipliers as possible. He said it will give us a huge advantage against any tangos,” he said as he puffed out his chest.
“Tangos?”
“Bad guys.”
She arched a brow. It must be military slang left over from when Luke was stationed overseas. Every once in a while he’d slip back into military slang, usually when he spent time around fellow SEALs.
A loud screeching noise blared from the TV. She jumped as a chase scene unfolded. At least she wasn’t fighting murderous cyborgs. The edges of her mouth quirked. Staying positive would go a long way toward keeping her sanity. She needed to maintain a good attitude. Luke and Sierra could show up any moment and they’d be a whole family again. She wouldn’t let despair win. In a world gone mad, family was the only thing that really mattered.
Luke hit the outer limits of Buttonwillow in the early afternoon. The 5 freeway overpass was barricaded by three highway patrol units. Although he’d anticipated it being closed, he couldn’t help but be disappointed. He continued under the freeway toward a strip of gas stations and fast food restaurants.
As he turned left onto the road, his eyes widened. Soldiers in full tactical gear patrolled a huge truck gas stop station. With twenty gas pumps and a large convenience store, it was easily the biggest gas station for a hundred miles.
Trucks and cars gridlocked the parking lot. Men and women in jeans and T-shirts formed a line along the sidewalk. Their animated faces and hand gestures left him cold. What in the heck was going on?
He rolled down the window.
“I don’t give a shit who ordered it,” a trucker yelled at a soldier. “If you’ve got gas, I want to buy it.”
“This is America,” a lady screamed. “You can’t keep us from trying to get home.”
As Luke continued past the growing mob, he spotted a huge, makeshift cardboard sign duct taped to one of the pumps.
“NO GAS!”
So were they out, or was something else going on? Trying to get through that mess would be impossible, so he drove past it toward the last gas station. The road dead-ended adjacent to the attached convenience store. A fallow field stretched out for several acres behind it.
Situated next to an empty strip of three stores, the gas station wasn’t much to look at. Boxy without the usual frills, it seemed to be a mom and pop type operation. Several vacant cars were lined up near the back of the parking lot. He scanned the area but didn’t see any people. How strange.