by J. R. Tate
Ryan and Steve searched. There wasn’t much in the basement, only some canned food that looked to have been several years old. He’d make a mental note of it in case they had to come back, but they couldn’t carry it all.
“I didn’t find anything, Ryan.”
“Me either. I bet he kept all of his stuff out at his shop, which was behind the house.” A sense of dread hit Ryan. “Son of a bitch!” He kicked a cabinet and the canned food rattled. “It’s like fate wants us to die!” Gritting his teeth, he checked Larry for anything useful. He hated how easy it was becoming. The fact that he didn’t have to hesitate to comb his dead friend’s body over for things put a whole new perspective in the situation. This was how life was. No one was coming. It wasn’t a game and they weren’t on a reality show. This was life.
Taking Larry’s boots off, Ryan tossed them to Steve. “We’ll eventually wear out ours. Keep these as backups.”
Larry had a screwdriver and a crescent wrench in his pocket. It was like Ryan had just picked the correct numbers for the lottery, and he added them to his backpack. He also stripped him of his clothes – a flannel shirt, a tank top underneath, and a good pair of jeans. He also took his baseball cap and his gold necklace. The hoarder mentality was Ryan’s standpoint on one of the key ways to survive.
“He’s about our size. We can use this stuff if we need to.”
Steve folded up the clothes and they went back up the stairs. It was like the weather was taking requests because a rain shower was blowing through. The tree draped over the house looked like a beautiful waterfall in someone’s garden, and Ryan held the canteen under a group of leaves, allowing for the water to run into his canteen.
It was a steady enough stream to completely refill it, and once his was full, he did the same for Steve’s. The rain cooled the temperature down about twenty degrees, and for the first time, it made Ryan feel rejuvenated. Once the canteens were refilled, he dipped his head under the leaves, the fresh water falling right into his mouth, killing the sandpaper thickness on his tongue. Water never tasted so good, and Steve followed suit, finding a spot where the rain trickled down for him to get a taste.
Something so small changed Ryan’s mood. As soon as the rain started, it stopped, but it was a refreshing change from the hail, lightning, and suctioning winds that escorted it all. After they were satisfied with searching through the remains of the house, they kept going. Ryan glanced at his watch. It was after two PM and they were covering a lot of ground.
“Larry’s house is about three miles from Harper Springs. If we keep going, we’ll reach town before the sun goes down. How you feeling?”
Steve wiped the sweat from his brow and put Larry’s ball cap on. His skin was red from the sun and Ryan didn’t realize that sunburns would eventually pose a problem for them too.
“A little hungry, but let’s keep going.”
Ryan tossed him the bag of beef jerky. They were running low on it, and it was the most protein-filled thing they had. He’d have a small piece and hope that would hold them over. Reaching town might give them a plethora of rubble to sift through, or it could come up as a dead end like everything else, but it was the only thing he had to go on. It was also where more people might be, considering the public shelters that hopefully many had time to flock to. It’d also give them a better chance of running into Dr. Robbins or the nurses who worked in his office. He could tell them about Ty’s situation and they could give him some medical insight on how he could help the child.
Maybe Cecilia would be there. The fact that he hadn’t run across her car along the highway gave him hope that she had gotten there before the brunt of the storm came crashing in. That had to be what happened. He couldn’t accept any other possibility, or all of this was for nothing.
They continued to walk, and with their canteens full, they wouldn’t have to sidetrack back to the river to get more water. As before, there was a big, dark storm in the sky just to the north of them, so Ryan kept close watch of it. It was working in their favor for the time being – the temperatures off of the back side kept things cool, which meant that the storm was loaded with hail. It was likely hitting Fox Lake, which is where Cecilia’s parents were. He often wondered about their safety, but he had to keep his goals small without feeling too overwhelmed.
He felt like their pace was lagging, and when he looked back at Steve, another worry developed. His traveling partner was looking red and tired, and his feet were dragging. Ryan motioned toward the canteen around his neck.
“Get some more to drink.”
“I don’t want to run out.”
“We can go back to the river if we have to. You need to drink. You don’t look so good.”
Steve didn’t put up much of a fight and took a long pull, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. What natural remedies could they use for sunscreen? Steve looked like he was getting burned up fast, which was odd, because Ryan didn’t seem as bad. Ryan was also darker complected compared to the fair-skinned man, and it was taking its toll on him.
Finding a spot to stop, Ryan took the tank top he had found on Larry and cut the lower part off. Pouring water on the cloth, he lifted Steve’s hat and put it underneath, allowing for some of it to fall on his neck.
“Your own little air conditioner.”
“It takes too much water, Ryan. I’m fine.”
“We need to get back to the river so you can cool off.”
Steve looked over his shoulder. “How far is it? That will set us back too much.”
“I could use a dip myself. The river makes a turn a little up the highway. There’s a bridge we cross over about a half a mile up. Rattlesnake Bridge is the name of it. Maybe I can spear us a snake to have for dinner.”
“Or we get bit by one. I don’t want to hold you back, Ryan. I know you’re in a hurry to get to Harper Springs.”
“What good will we be if we dehydrate ourselves? It’s a small setback, but a good one. Rehydrate, try to catch a fish or a snake, and recharge ourselves. I won’t be any use for my wife if I come crawling in, barely able to make sense of what is going on. Besides, that storm just north of here looks like it’s stationary. If we take our time, it’ll give it a chance to dissipate or move on before we come up right underneath it.”
Steve didn’t put up any more of an argument and Ryan led him in the direction of Rattlesnake Bridge. He wasn’t sure why it was named that. He had fished off the bridge several times and never saw one, but now would be a good time to see one, as long as he could keep his distance and kill it before it struck at them.
Steve was slower than just a few minutes before, and when they reached the river, Ryan stripped down to his undershirt and boxers, diving into the cool water. The mud between his toes felt good, and wiping the dirt all over his skin away made him feel like a new man. Steve edged his way in, ducking his head under the surface. Ryan scrubbed his fingers through his hair and his beard – it was thick now, and though it seemed that it would make him hot, it was actually keeping him cool. It was also helping block his skin from the sun. He hadn’t had facial hair this long since right after graduating high school.
He took a second to watch Steve. The poor guy looked as red as a lobster. His facial hair was coming in blond and not quite as thick as Ryan’s. What could they do to make some natural sunblock? Ryan wished he would’ve paid more attention in science class. They never went over survival skills in the wild, but he still felt like it could help. Aloe Vera was perfect for soothing burning skin, but that didn’t help block the UV rays.
After another five minutes of enjoying the cool water, Ryan got out and put his clothes back on. Sitting on the edge of the water, he pulled his sapling from his supplies and rigged up another hook from Mrs. McElroy’s sewing kit. Stabbing a piece of corn on the end, he tossed the line in the river and waited. Steve was enjoying the water downstream, and it was good to see him smiling again.
Ryan ran his hand through the mud just under the surface of the water.
That was it! Steve could put some on his skin. It would help block the rays. Balling a glob in his fist, Ryan held it up and yelled toward Steve.
“When you get out, put some of this on your exposed skin!”
Steve cocked his head to the side. “Right after a cleansing bath?”
“It’ll help with the sunburn. A little on your face, the back of your neck, and your arms. I’m going to do it too. Probably would be best to prevent blistering.”
“I never would’ve thought of that,” Steve replied, shaking his head as he dove back under the water.
Ryan turned back to fishing, feeling a small tug on the line from the flow of the river. For a moment, he was able to remove himself from the situation. At that second, he was just a man, fishing on the banks of the river, hoping to snag dinner. He was able to imagine that the world around him wasn’t in utter chaos, and things were fine. Cecilia was back home, preparing the rest of the meal, and Ty was healthy, running freely out in the pasture.
The growling behind him pulled him from his dream world. What in the hell was it? He was afraid to turn in look. Glancing over his shoulder, he dropped the sapling and got a look at the coyote that was about twenty yards from him. Steve was in the river, unarmed, unable to shoot from where he was. Ryan had the handgun in his pocket, but the angle was bad, and he wouldn’t be able to get it out without making a sudden movement that would trigger the dog’s reflexes and come after him.
He got up slowly, his heart thumping so hard that it was about to fall out of his chest. The dog showed his teeth, the large fangs ready to bite right into his skin. There was no foam dripping from his mouth like the one from the night before, but all bets were off now. As Steve had said, humans were no longer at the top of the food chain. Wildlife was getting hungry, and they were willing to go after anything to survive. The fact that the coyote was out during the day was worrisome.
Behind Ryan was the river. He could jump back in and make the coyote swim after him. How good of swimmers were they? Didn’t rabid animals fear water? He thought he had read that somewhere.
If he yelled for Steve, that would be another reason to give the coyote a chance to lunge. Taking a deep breath, Ryan moved his left foot back, and that was enough for the coyote to come after him.
Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. Instead of falling back into the river, Ryan moved to the side, trying to make a far circle around the animal, but its reflexes were quick, and it nipped at his heels as he tried to run for a tree. He could feel the hot breath off of the coyote, his teeth clamping down and snapping, barely missing Ryan by a few inches. The gun was heavy in his pocket, but if he tried to pull it out, that would also slow him down. But he had to try! He couldn’t just let the coyote have him for a meal.
He sprinted as fast as he could, but the uneven terrain made it hard to reach his full potential. If he looked back, it’d slow him down, but the wild dog was right there. He slid his hand in his pant’s pocket, but it didn’t work. The gun was too big to pull out and he’d have to stop to be able to get it. He tripped on something, his body crashing hard to the ground. Sharp pain and heat shot through him and his head slammed into the earth below, the edge of his vision growing fuzzy.
A loud gunshot exploded from above – it was the last thing Ryan heard before passing out.
Chapter Nineteen
“Ryan? Ryan, are you okay?”
He could hear someone’s voice, distant, like he was in a tunnel. He tried to get up, but his body screamed out in pain and he fell back against whatever it was he was lying on. It took a second for his vision to recover from the blurriness, and he finally saw Steve hovering over him like a helicopter circling around a suspect.
“Oh thank God, you’re awake!”
Ryan lifted his head, but it felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. “What the hell?”
“You don’t remember?”
“Enlighten me, please. I can only imagine.” The sound of his own voice made Ryan’s head hurt, and he cringed with each pulse that made his brain want to explode against his skull.
“You got attacked by a coyote.”
“I what?” Was it a damn dream? The pain in his leg said otherwise, and he finally got enough energy to sit up and see his pants were ripped and there was a piece of cloth wrapped around his thigh, pink from the blood it was absorbing. “What the hell?” he asked again, unable to think up a coherent question.
“The coyote didn’t do that. You fell on a metal fence post.”
Ryan went to remove the bandage, but Steve stopped him, his grasp hard on his hand. “I wouldn’t remove it just yet. It’s still bleeding, and this isn’t exactly the most sanitary place to have an open wound.”
“What did you wrap it in?”
“The rest of Larry’s tank top.”
That wasn’t sanitary either, but at least Steve was helping him. “I want to see it. How deep is it?”
“It could use stitches.”
“Shit!” Ryan laid his head back again and closed his eyes. “You’re worried about sanitation and I impaled my leg on a rusty metal pole.” Things like tetanus popped into his mind, and he rubbed his finger down his cheek, thinking about lock jaw. “Is it bad enough that I won’t be able to walk?”
“Probably not for a few days. I cleaned it with some of the alcohol we had in the first aid kit. I’m surprised that didn’t wake you up. It foamed up and seemed to do a good job.”
“I don’t have a few days. We have to keep going.” He sat up again, adjusting his weight.
“This is my fault, Ryan.” Steve sat beside him. “We should’ve never stopped. You would’ve never gotten attacked and hurt. And we’d probably already be in Harper Springs by now.”
“No, don’t do this.” Ryan wagged his index finger at Steve. “You weren’t in good shape yourself. It was my idea to stop. We aren’t going to play the blame game, you got me? If we do that, we should blame it all on mother nature and the bitch that she’s been!”
He felt lightheaded and out of breath. It was like something was working against them, like they shouldn’t be doing what they were. Maybe it would have been better if he allowed the storm to take them, so they weren’t left behind to go through all of the suffering and struggles. He couldn’t let himself think that way. Too much depended on his survival.
“We need to find a doctor,” Steve said, stating the obvious.
Ryan clenched his jaw and stared down at his wounded leg. “Thank you, Steve. You saved my life. Which gun did you use?”
“The shotgun. It was propped up against a tree. I jumped out of the water as soon as I saw the damn thing bearing down on you. You’re a fast runner! He damn near got a piece of you!”
Ryan couldn’t help but laugh. “At first, I didn’t think you realized what was going on, but my focus was on the animal. That’s quick thinking. I’d be dead...”
Steve’s brow furrowed and he looked away. “But you’re not. And you’d do the same for me, so don’t think that way.”
Ryan bit his bottom lip to stave off a bout of pain that shot through him. “I’ve gotta worry about tetanus or other infections. So along with finding my wife, getting medical help for my son, and getting tools to fix that car, we’ve gotta run across a tetanus shot, somehow.”
“When was the last time you had the shot?”
“Hell, I don’t know. Long enough to where I’ll need one. Maybe you ought to find your own way. I seem to be a magnet for attracting all kinds of bullshit. I’m an accident just waiting to happen.”
“You’ve gotten us this far, Ryan. We’re not far from Harper Springs and we’ll keep moving. But you need to rest and stay off of that leg for a while. If you don’t, you’ll just hurt yourself worse.”
“So close, yet so far,” Ryan replied. When was he going to wake up from this nightmare?
“That storm we were waiting on near Harper Springs looks like it finally moved off.” Steve handed Ryan a canteen and a bottle of Tylenol. “Probably shou
ld take a few of those.”
Ryan didn’t argue. The water tasted good and it was cold, and he swallowed four pills. “How bad is the wound? I know I already asked that, but did it go through?”
“No.” Steve shook his head. “It’s a pretty big gash that is deep. It’s going to leave a hell of a scar. By my calculations, it won’t get stitched up in time to prevent one. Unless!” He snapped his fingers, his eyes widening as the idea hit him.
“Unless what?” Finally, Steve was showing some personality, and it threw Ryan off guard.
“We have that woman’s sewing kit, right?”
Ryan looked down at his leg. The cotton shirt was soaked in his blood and it didn’t show any signs of slowing down. “You’re wanting to stitch me up?” His heart skipped a beat. “That has infection written all over it. Do you even know how to do it?”
“I’ve got livestock. I’ve had to do it to them when the veterinarian wasn’t around. And there is a risk for infection, but so is leaving the wound wide open with dirty bandages and clothes over it. We’ve got the rubbing alcohol I can pour on it. It’ll hurt like hell, but we gotta get it to stop bleeding.”
Ryan shifted his weight, trying to lift the leg. He could barely get it off of the ground without the pain shooting through him, hindering any chance of moving. And he felt weak – was it from blood loss or everything snowballing to make his life a living hell?
“If you don’t want me to do it, I won’t touch you. If it were me, I’d do it. Look how much blood has soaked in the denim on your jeans.” He pointed at Ryan’s leg. “I’m no doctor, but like I said, I’ve stitched up cattle before. You’ll definitely have a scar, but I think that’s a moot point right about now.”
It would definitely hurt like hell. Ryan contemplated the option a few more minutes, hesitating. “How long ago did this happen?” He still wasn’t sure how much time had passed. If he could get an accurate timeline, it’d help him make a decision.