“Not yet. We’ll get into the mountains first.” Karla did not trust the darkened highway, but she would not make camp near town. She did not want another disaster this close to their goal.
Chapter 67
Deep snow had kept Ray and Brittany hunting close to home and without much success. Rabbits and squirrels were in hiding. They’d not seen a deer in weeks. Even if they were lucky enough to kill one, hauling it home under those conditions would be difficult.
They each carried a rifle as they crossed the meadow in the early light and climbed the northwest ridge. Ray brushed snow from a log, and they sat in silence. They could be doing that in the cave with Caitlin and be warmer. But they needed food. It wasn’t going to knock on their door.
Ray stood and headed down the west slope, Brittany trailing. They reached the first pond, frozen over, and circled it. No sign and they moved to the larger one. It, too, was frozen, but something had been down that morning to investigate.
The heavy snow rendered the tracks unreadable, but they followed them, sure it was deer or elk—not much else around with tall, skinny legs. They crossed another ridge and trudged steeply downhill into a narrow valley. They split up, Brittany taking the left ridge, Ray the right, doubling their odds for a shot as they drew nearer.
Ray gained the ridge and followed the tracks with the scope. The valley cut to the west and a pond fell into view. He moved closer. A large buck at the edge raised its ears and bolted, struggling through the snow. The angle wasn’t good and the distance farther than he liked, but he lined up the shot. Brittany’s rifle cracked as he pulled the trigger.
Brittany reached the deer ahead of Ray and looked down solemnly at her kill. He had hit it, too, but it was hers. She drew a knife and waited for Ray. They dressed the deer, cut off what they could carry, then hung the carcass ten feet up a spruce tree. Bears weren’t out. He didn’t see anything but buzzards to mess up his plans. They weren’t plentiful in this season, and the dense branching in the spruce would give them trouble.
Ray wrapped the meat in a skin and fit it in their packs. Then they began the trudge home, Ray wishing he had thought to acquire snow shoes or skis. They climbed the slope to their valley and rested on the log. Brittany cocked her head a millisecond ahead of a shot.
It was miles to the northeast, toward the fire road. Ray’s immediate concern was getting the food home, but he couldn’t ignore anyone that close. And if he heard their shot. They had undoubtedly heard his and Brittany’s.
He hustled Brittany toward the cave and thought things through. A single shot meant hunting. Both he and the other hunter now knew they weren’t alone. Ray had heard shots before, but never close enough for him to locate the shooter. Anyone this far out, in this snow, had to be living there. If they wandered his direction in curiosity, they would find his and Brittany’s tracks and learn where they lived. Ray decided he needed to find the other man first.
Ray dropped the meat with Caitlin and headed out, not providing a complete explanation, guessing Brittany would in her own way. He didn’t feel safe retrieving the remainder of the deer until he knew more about the other hunter. He retraced his footsteps to the ridge, crossed it to the hiking trail, and trekked east.
The sky turned grey and spit snow. He stopped on the trail and ate cornbread—what they lived on when there was no meat. He heard no more shots and saw no tracks. He drank water and moved on.
The snow picked up and Ray stopped—an hour from home. He had seen the suddenness and ferocity of mountain storms and did not want to become trapped by one. He turned back wishing he had a weather forecast.
Chapter 68
Karla followed Ray’s directions to a fire road with a locked gate. He had told her where a key was hidden, but she didn’t waste time looking in the dark and the snow. She cut the lock with bolt cutters and replaced it with one she’d brought along.
The fire road was passable, but she covered only a mile before stopping for the night. She saw no chance to complete the last part of the journey in the dark. She understood Ray’s warning against sleeping in the truck and had avoided it on the two previous nights. It felt peaceful in the mountains, though. There had been no tracks or signs of people for fifteen miles. She left the heater on until she and Jessie were in their bags, the truck too full to recline the seats more than slightly. Like sleeping on a plane, but colder.
In the morning, Karla drove back toward the gate and covered her tracks as far as could be seen from the road. In a day, probably no one would notice them. Then she remounted the chains.
The mountain bike trail was steep and narrow. Ray had told her it was passable. He had driven it several times, but not in the snow. Karla made four runs at the first grade before finally making the top. She worked up several more before encountering a slope the truck wouldn’t climb. She spent an hour clearing the critical top portion with a shovel, then gained that summit, too.
Karla heard a gunshot while she shoveled the next slope, maybe two shots almost together. It was miles to the west. Not near Ray’s retreat according to her reckoning. She thought about that as she worked. If Ray was hunting, there was no reason he had to be close to home. She stepped away from the truck and fired a single shot. If Ray was out there, he would investigate. If it was someone else? Well, she’d have to deal with it.
She drove slowly, looking for the trail Ray said was three miles from the fire road. He also said it wasn’t well marked, he’d seen to that, just a gap in the trees. She added a tenth of a mile for spinning tires and stopped. Karla glanced at Jessie, asleep again, then set out on a walk, carrying the rifle.
Something that looked like a trail went off to the left a quarter mile from the truck. Karla smiled at Ray’s directions, then considered she could have spun the tires more than she thought. She started up. The trail took a sharp right and widened. She walked to the truck and drove it to the trailhead.
She sat in the cab. The trail would be difficult for the truck. According to Ray, she was within a couple miles of his shelter. It was nearly noon. She could walk the distance in an hour, but not with Jessie. If she hustled she could be there and back in under two. But she didn’t dare leave Jessie alone. She decided to give Ray another hour. Then she’d carry Jessie and risk the truck.
In the meantime, she took another stroll and ended on a log fifty feet up the trail. She watched clouds move in and began to worry about snow.
* * *
The first flakes drifted down. Karla had to move while she could. She reeled out the winch cable and hooked a tree. She fed the cabled remote control through the cab window and pulled the truck ninety feet up the trail. After the fifth hard pull, she was very pleased with her choice of the hydraulic winch.
The snow gathered strength, covering her at each reset of the cable. She hit a level stretch and advanced under the truck’s power. She stopped at footprints on the trail and stepped out. Someone had come down the trail and turned around—today from the look and less than half a mile from where she’d been parked.
She moved on, tedious pull after pull, taking three hours to reach the spot in the trail where the footprints left it—and realize her big mistake. The route the walking man took could not be followed in a vehicle. She had expected to track him home, not thinking the walking path would be different from the driving one. She studied Ray’s instructions. Two and two tenths miles and considered the error on the last segment. The route was behind her.
She walked down the trail and saw no suitable path for a truck. She trudged ahead with the same result. She followed the boot prints up the slope, but as darkness closed in, she turned back. She was sure she was within a mile of Ray, but with no way to reach him.
She shook off snow and climbed into the truck.
“One more night in the wild, kiddo.”
Jessie had the last of the cornbread out and passed Karla a piece.
“It’s right over that ridge.”
“Did you see it?”
Karla shook her head. “I just know.”
* * *
The snow stopped after midnight and the sky cleared. Karla turned the key. The outside temperature stood at -2. The cab wasn’t much warmer. She pulled on a ski mask and hat then slithered from her bag. She stepped out into a bitter wind and shook. Under the light of a full moon, she made her way up the path marked by the footprints. They were easy to follow where she’d tromped up and back as well, more difficult where only Ray’s, partially filled with fresh snow, continued alone.
From the top of the ridge, she looked out on a treeless valley—the meadow Ray had described. It all fit. She suppressed the urge to track him to his shelter, unsure what security might be in place. Better to wait for daylight.
She followed the ridgeline, seeking the vehicle trail from the top. She found it, tripping over a log covered with snow. He had cut trees to make a path, and dragged them across it to hide its purpose when not in use. The trail zigged and zagged, sometimes between trees not ten feet apart. Karla smiled when she reached the bottom. Ray had done a good job. Had she not known there was a route, she wouldn’t have found it.
* * *
She let the truck run a minute, then backed to the trail and angled the truck uphill. She let out the winch cable and went to work. Summiting the crest took twenty-six winchings and the movement of three logs. Daylight had come an hour earlier. She maneuvered to the valley floor more quickly, striking only one log in need of movement. Then she stopped and shut off the truck and stared through binoculars across the frozen meadow.
A thin wisp of smoke rose from the rock ridge on the southwest corner. She’d have to work on diffusing that giveaway. And the trail, too. Although it had taken her a full day, a snowmobile could cover the distance in half an hour. In the summer, a motorcycle could do the same. They were noisy and not useful to sneak up on someone, but they needed to be discouraged.
Karla considered the possibilities as she watched the smoke. Then a figure, a man, heavily bundled, carrying a pack and a rifle, stepped from the tree line a quarter mile to her right. He skirted the edge of the meadow headed for the rocks. She climbed out with the rifle, in case she was wrong.
“Hello.” Karla shouted.
The man dropped and spun, rifle raised as he tried to get a fix on the voice.
“Ray?”
He stood, lowered the rifle, and started toward her. Karla stepped into the clearing, her rifle casually at her side. His pace quickened. She held her position near the trees, let him do the walking.
She removed her ski mask as he moved closer. His was already off.
“I didn’t know if you’d really come,” Ray said, still fifty feet away.
“Me either. Things have got a bit sketchy out in the world.”
They met with a hug. He stared over her shoulder at the truck, screened from the meadow by a stand of spruce.
“How’d you get that thing up here?”
“Piece of cake, really.”
Jessie staggered from the truck, rubbing her eyes.
“Uncle Ray!”
He walked over and bent to pick her up.
“Careful,” Karla said. “She’s a bit sore.”
* * *
“What made you think of the winch?” Ray asked, noticing it on the front.
“In a four wheeling magazine survey, it was the number one thing people who got in trouble in the deep woods wished they’d had.”
Ray laughed. “I’ll bet.”
“My advice is go with the hydraulic. They don’t get tired like the electric ones do.”
Ray’s eyes moved to the bullet holes in the windshield. He walked slowly around the truck. “This thing’s been shot to hell.”
“Some men were real unhappy to see us.”
“Bandits?”
“The law, as close as I could tell. There’s flu going around. A bad strain. Quarantine with a bullet seems to be a new treatment.”
“I’m sorry,” Ray said. “It wasn’t like that when I came through.”
“We made it. A couple times, I didn’t think we would.”
Ray nodded to the truck. “Let’s get this thing settled and get out of the cold.”
They parked the truck across the meadow next to Ray’s. He lifted Jessie to his back and led Karla on the five minute walk to his home.
Karla wasn’t sure what to expect. Ray had called it a cave one time and a shelter another. Whatever it was, he had survived a bitter winter in it. She saw the concrete wall as they approached. Then Ray opened the door.
“We have guests,” he called inside.
Chapter 69
The cave was warm and had tiny bulbs for light. Ray swung a homemade storm door into place and the space grew brighter. The interior walls had been smoothed and painted. A wool rug covered much of the floor beyond the stacked wood. At the back, curtains separated the main area from what Karla assumed were the sleeping spaces.
A woman holding a handgun stepped from behind the right side curtain.
Karla smiled. “Should have known. How are you, Caitlin?”
“A lot better than when I left home.”
“You two know each other?” Ray asked.
“We worked together,” Karla said.
“For the same company, anyway. Karla was management. I worked production.”
Brittany appeared from behind the other curtain. She waved shyly at Jessie. Ray made the introductions and explained Jessie needed to rest.
“Is it okay if she uses your bed, Brittany?”
She nodded.
Karla lifted Jessie’s top and examined the bandage. “Go ahead. We can change it later.”
Caitlin raised her eyes.
“We ran into trouble,” Karla said. “You’ve seen how it is. She was shot, but she’s healing fine.”
“I counted nine bullet holes in the truck,” Ray said. “Not including some shotgun damage.”
“I hope it’s more peaceful here.”
“There were some men last fall,” Caitlin said. “A couple days after we got to the mountains. No one’s given us trouble since we moved here.”
“Good to know.”
“If you’re tired,” Caitlin pointed to her bed. “It’s there if you need it.”
“Thanks, but we’ll throw down bags. Warm and dry will be a pleasant change.” Karla glanced around. “Better unpack the truck first, if that’s okay. Afraid it’s gonna get crowded with all we brought.”
Caitlin turned to Ray.
He shrugged. “We’ll see what needs to come up.”
“I’m sorry to put you out like this. When the snow melts, we’ll get out of your hair.”
“I had a little warning.” Caitlin opened her arms and gave Karla a late hug. “Welcome, I should have said it sooner. We can all give you a hand with your things.”
It took most of the morning to unload the truck. Caitlin stared in shock at the hundreds of pounds of food, most of a truck full—the rest camping gear, weapons, batteries, tools, and seeds. Their personal things took slightly more than a suitcase each.
“Where’d you get this?” Ray held up a rifle she’d taken from one of the rubber suited men.
“A man tried to kill me with it.”
“M24, Army sniper rifle. Leupold scope. You can hit a man at half a mile with one of these.”
“Or put a set through their heart at fifty feet.”
“You don’t need . . . .”
“No. You don’t. But that’s what they did. A firing squad for the unsuspecting. That’s what it’s come to out there.”
“How bad’s the flu, really?” Ray asked.
“I don’t know. They stopped giving news at home. That got my attention. If there’s a quarantine, someone outside imposed it. No idea the scope.” Karla considered what she knew. “The roads were empty. The interstate was closed at the Colorado line. Exits were blocked. Towns are barricading.”
&
nbsp; “Have you seen the federal pandemic protocols?”
“Nooo. How would I?”
“They were made public, a few years ago. In the event martial law became necessary due to the collapse of local government, summary execution is permitted as a last resort for quarantine violators.”
“If I won’t stay put, they can kill me?”
“For that to happen, you are supposed to actually have the disease, represent a threat to the community, and transport to secure medical facilities must be unavailable.” He let a few seconds pass. “But you said these people weren’t military.”
“Karla shook her head. “No. Lucky for me, just trigger happy yahoos.”
“Put yourself in their shoes. What would you do to protect Jessie?”
“I wouldn’t kill anyone who wasn’t already bent on trying to do me harm.”
“That’s pretty much what contagious people wandering the streets are doing.”
“Are you worried about us?” Karla asked.
“Should we be?”
Part 3
Chapter 70
June, and the snow had long since vanished. Still, the daytime temperatures struggled to cross sixty. Karla and Caitlin stood in their meadow garden and checked on the slow progress of peas, beans, and broccoli.
“Too cold for anything but early corn.” Karla pulled a weed taller than her plants. “Same for tomatoes. Probably be great for carrots, potatoes, and winter squash. Wish I’d brought the right seeds.”
Caitlin poured water they’d hauled from the pond in the next valley. They’d risked a trip in Karla’s truck and brought back a hundred gallons in a variety of containers. “I can’t believe all you did bring.”
Ray strolled over. “Would a greenhouse help?” He kept an eye on the girls tending their own tiny garden thirty feet away.
Karla waived her arms in a wide arc. “Sure. We can use the see-through trees for windows.”
Times What They Are Page 27