Times What They Are

by D. L. Barnhart

  Karla’s chest heaved. She couldn’t attack. She couldn’t stay. She knew he was trying to flush her, and yet she couldn’t resist him. She took a deep breath and pushed off the tree. Four steps: a two count. She dove and rolled once.

  She went airborne and landed hard at the base of a ten foot drop. She clung to the rifle and shook off the stars. She staggered right, cutting into the forest the way she’d come. She tried to run but there was no reserve. She chose a tree and climbed.

  Minutes of quiet—wind and birds, then a crunch. Very close. She slowly pulled the pistol from her belt. Silence for a full minute. Then he stepped into view, twenty feet uphill. She fired first. A double tap. He spun and loosed a short burst on full auto. Karla hit him once more in the chest, and raised the rifle, sure he wore a vest. He tried to crawl. She shot him twice more.

  Chapter 84

  Ray poured sweat. Pain overpowered the drugs. He sat in the truck, stopped on the road. He’d missed a lot in the last few hours. Now something had gone wrong. The excited voices he heard were not celebratory.

  “Where is she?” Brittany screamed. Ray had never heard Brittany raise her voice.

  “She was there, then she wasn’t,” Jeff said. “They were shooting at us. Look at the bullet holes!”

  “I don’t see blood,” Lamar commented. “But they shot the tailgate to hell. Hard to see how they would have missed.”

  “She fell out,” Brittany said. “No blood: she fell out.”

  “I’m going back.” Jeff turned to the Ram.

  “Not going anywhere till we change that tire.” Lamar again. “Then we ought to get out of here. If they killed her, what do you think is going to happen to the rest of us?”

  “Nobody killed Karla.” Ray hung on the open door. “She’s the luckiest damn woman I ever met.”

  Lamar clunked the jack to the ground. “Falling from a moving truck. Getting shot out of it. They don’t seem like lucky things.”

  “Brittany, let’s go.” Ray leaned heavily on the truck.

  “Don’t get the girl killed,” Lamar said. “You’re not fit to go anywhere.”

  Jeff turned to Lamar. “Soon as we get this fixed, I’ll go.”

  “Suit yourself,” Lamar said. “I’ll find another ride.”

  Chapter 85

  Karla hefted the man’s weapons and struggled to the road. She sat on the guardrail, then dropped to the ground realizing her stupidity. There were other men. It was a matter of how far back. She hadn’t found a communication device on the man she searched, though surely the vehicles had them. Had he told the others she was on foot before he took up pursuit?

  She took a few deep breaths and hit the pavement—a slow jog to the top of the ridge. Her heart sunk. The truck was gone. She had seen it clear the rise. She had hoped now to see the men nearby, changing the tire. How far would they go on the rim? How far without her?

  The magnitude of her problem settled in. Jeff hadn’t seen her fall. Lamar had surely been on the floor. When they found her missing, they would conclude the obvious: she was dead. They wouldn’t search. They owed her nothing. Ray, the only one she could count on, was of no help to her, now.

  Karla started forward. She had no food or water. There were a dozen supplied men behind her. They were on foot as well and perhaps out of touch with their base. But they would reach the Humvee, see it was not dead, and put it back in the chase. They could be on her trail already. Karla cursed herself. She should have gone back and killed the vehicle when she had the chance. She broke into a jog hoping that mistake didn’t prove fatal.

  The jog fell to a walk. Karla’s leg throbbed and her back ached: two falls and a spent bullet. Still glad she wore the vest. Down a grade and up another. She stopped, bent at the waist and leaned on the rifles. She sucked air, then eased onto an overlook. She rested her rifle on a rock, stared through the scope at open sections of the road she’d traveled, smiled to see no one yet close. She gauged the farthest point at three quarters of a mile straight across. Closer to two miles on the twisted road. She sat. She waited. She wanted to know.

  Two men jogged around a corner and started down a grade, not yet in sight of the Humvee. Karla steadied the rifle and fired. The bullet puffed pavement twenty feet in front of them. The men dropped to a shallow ditch. Karla made adjustments and hit the rock face behind them. They fired back, only guessing at the incoming direction. She tried again and sprayed them with gravel. Then once more for effect. The men raised their rifles but kept their heads down as they fired. If they weren’t scared they were crazy. She waited to see.

  Chapter 86

  Ray took a long drink of water. He leaned back in the seat and frowned at the distant gunfire. They should have already gone.

  Lamar let down the jack. “More than one rifle.”

  “If they’re shooting, there’s a live target,” Jeff replied.

  “For now.”

  “The muffled ones are Karla.”

  Jeff faced Brittany. “What?”

  “Karla fired four shots.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “It’s her rifle or one just like it.”

  “Who’s for going to have a look?” Jeff asked.

  The girl raised her hand. Jeff looked to Brittany.

  “Karla told me to look after Ray. She said she would catch up.”

  “You think she can without help?”

  Brittany shook her head.

  “Leave the girl alone,” said Lamar. “You two want to go back, do it. The rest of us will move on while we can.”

  Brittany produced a map and pointed. “Karla wanted to camp here.”

  Chapter 87

  One man crawled forward, his back visible as the ditch shallowed out. Karla fired three spaced shots, saw him twist and pull back. She figured that was sufficient warning. She crawled off the rock and ran. She had a good lead and pursuers made cautious.

  Down a hill, around a curve, across a quarter mile of open ridge top. It was now all about escape. Karla ran on and thought about Jessie, her own pride, and her failures. Then she stopped in the road. Jessie was dead. She was alone in the world. What did it matter when or where she died?

  The clatter of a diesel engine rose above her breathing. She spun looking for the Humvee, then a spot to face it. A stump sat on the high side thirty yards away, a guardrail on the low. She went for the stump, this time.

  The sound grew louder. She sighted the six hundred meters to the curve. Perfect. She would stop it and defy the men to get out and come after her. The Humvee rounded the corner and started up the hill. Two men sat on the roof, automatic weapons raised and scanning.

  Karla knocked the first man off and the second while he sought to find her. A man leaned from the passenger side and let off a three round burst. She shot his arm and he dropped the rifle. She fired at the driver, the vehicle now at four hundred meters, too close already. The Humvee chugged to a stop. She scattered bullets across the windshield, more to scare then maim. Then hit the other front tire. She waited. No one stepped out.

  She fired the M16 she’d taken to check its range. She hit the tire again on the third try. Then the front grill and the windshield. The small caliber rounds did little damage, but left the occupants to consider more than one shooter should they leave the confines of the armored vehicle. She put a bullet through the windshield with the M24, then moved uphill for a change of angle, no longer concerned the men would exit.

  Karla fired once through a side window. She put two bullets into the engine from above, then hit a rear tire. The vehicle began to roll backward down the grade. She hit the windshield once more before the vehicle angled into the guardrail and was guided roughly around the corner. Always something she didn’t plan on. Soon, the men would be out and coming for her through the trees. She didn’t know how many or where. Time to go.

  She ran the road. Much faster than tree to tree as they would be, trying to find a sniper. She reached a right hand
bend and sheltered behind a tree. She dared a man to step out and knew they wouldn’t. She caught her breath and moved on. At each corner she waited. Then she ran out of curves and into a dipping straight far longer than the others.

  The first three hundred yards Karla ran the pavement, then she hugged the tree line and stopped several times to look back. Diesel clatter reached her again. She slipped behind a tree. The noise surrounded her, echoing, as if from all directions. The Ram rolled into view from the east and her heart leapt. Then the Humvee rounded the corner from the west.

  Karla fired at the Humvee, stopping it in the road. The Ram halted a quarter mile short of her, facing off with the Humvee more than three quarters of a mile away. The Humvee crawled forward. Men fired from the windows—the guns exposed, the men inside popping up and down to point more than aim. Bullets hit the pavement, the dirt, and the trees around her. Karla fired into the Humvee, but the vehicle continued slowly toward her. She ran through the trees trying to reach the Ram.

  On the road, the Ram backed away as the Humvee rolled forward, negating her gains. Karla scrambled up a rock mound and fired down on the Humvee, piercing the windshield at a new angle. The shooting from the left side stopped. She emptied her last clip into the engine, then she leaped off her perch and ran.

  The Humvee shuddered to a stop and the starter cranked. The Ram powered closer then swung a U-turn. Karla broke to the road, vaulted into the truck bed, and slipped between the cab and the four-wheeler.

  Jeff floored the truck as men fired from behind the doors of the Humvee. Bullets hit the road, the tailgate, and the four-wheeler. Karla emptied the M16. The girl fired through the back window, continuing even as the glass beside her burst and the cab took hits. The space between the vehicles expanded rapidly. A mile, more. The shooting grew distant. Then they rounded a bend.

  Chapter 88

  They found Brittany with the help of the handheld. She had set camp northwest of Laramie in a deep pine forest off a dirt fire road. Ray’s fever had worsened, and he passed in and out of consciousness. Karla changed his blood soaked bandages. She cleaned the exit wound and sewed it closed, with Ray all but screaming. She fed him antibiotics and pain pills and laid him out on the reclined front seat.

  Brittany lit a small fire and cooked cornbread to go with the salvaged elk. Introductions were finally made over dinner. The girl was Rylee, called Rainy by the boy. He was Thomas called TJ by Rainy. She was sixteen. He fifteen. The man was Lamar. First name or last he didn’t say.

  “Where you from?” Karla asked.

  “Kermit, Texas,” Rainy said. “Us and four others when we left.”

  “What happened there?”

  “Food got scarce. People got sick. Then there was nothing. We heard the Mexican Army was coming. We hightailed into New Mexico.”

  “The same there?”

  “Pretty much,” TJ said. “Towns were deserted. Stores picked through. We stayed clear of cities; ate rabbits and squirrels, nuts and berries. Once in a while fish. There’s folks livin’ in the back country. We’d see smoke and check. Most ran us off if we showed ourselves.”

  “We moved north hoping things were better,” Rainy said. “Got to Craig in the spring. Saw the smoke, the church barbeque, and went in. Didn’t expect that kind of treatment from good Christian folks.” She glared at Jeff.

  “The others?”

  TJ answered. “They didn’t tell us. The tall one showed up. Took a fancy to Rainy. Those people didn’t care.”

  “Jeff stared at the ground. “Couldn’t have done much if I knew.”

  “Where you headed?” Rainy asked.

  “We’d been in the mountains. Planned to relocate, maybe farther west. Way things have gone changed my mind. I’m going east, tomorrow. I’d like to put miles between us and those we’ve run into. I expect there’s more like them if we’re not careful.”

  “You thinking some place in particular?”

  “I am. It’s a good day’s haul. Safer than here. I’d prefer to keep the details to myself for the moment.

  Rainy took a bite of elk and traded glances with TJ. “We’d still like to tag along. Food’s been tough to come by in this country.”

  “Deer and elk falling from trees. Your mistake was going after rabbits.”

  “We had a truck and a .22. Got a deer once,” Rainy said. “Then we ran out of ammo. Every store’d been cleaned out.”

  TJ picked up from his sister. “All the shooting in the last day. We didn’t think there were that many bullets left in the world.”

  Karla sampled a piece of burnt elk. She motioned the others to eat up. “Bullets haven’t been in short supply in our experience.”

  “We could go our own way, if that’s what you want. Just leave us a game rifle and a box of shells,” Rainy said.

  Karla poked a stick in the fire. “The last two days, I’ve been shot at more than I like. I’m a little leery of handing out guns.”

  “We’d be more use if we run into trouble.”

  “Talk to me tomorrow. Meanwhile, stick close to Ray. He has a fondness for girls and guns.”

  Brittany gave Karla a cold stare.

  “You feel I say something factually wrong, feel free to speak up.”

  “You make him sound like an old letch,” Brittany said.

  “Didn’t intend to. I was only talking about guns. But Ray did have a way with Jessie. Closer than her real father. He still has that with you.”

  “He’s a good man.”

  “Didn’t mean to start an argument,” Rainy said.

  “We’ve had a hard few days. Haven’t talked it all out yet. There’s nothing bad gonna come between us.” Karla turned to Brittany. “You’re right about Ray. He is a good man. I wouldn’t have done what I did for any man else.”

  “I thought you were going to leave him.”

  “And I wondered if anyone would come for me.”

  “I did what you said.”

  “Look, we both got issues to work on. I’m not used to being doubted. You’ve still got some to learn about people.”

  Brittany smiled. “Only two of us for watch. Want me to take first?”

  “Thank you. I’d like to sit with Ray awhile.” Karla stood. “We’ll be on the road early. I’d like to be past Laramie before dawn.”

  * * *

  Brittany tapped on the window. Karla looked for the moon and saw the time was late.

  “Rainy took your watch. Said she could sleep in the car. I can, too, till you need me.”

  Karla walked night vision goggles and a handheld to Jeff. “You’ll get used to these things. We’re running without lights. Stay in line. I’ll be driving fast where I can and looking for side roads around towns.”

  She moved on to TJ, set him up, then handed Rainy a .270 Savage. “Try not to start a war.”

  She looked it over. “I won’t shoot unless you do.”

  “Stick close and move fast. Three vehicles: small groups might leave us alone.”

  * * *

  Brittany called out directions Karla had penciled in. They passed west of Laramie, east of Casper, and hooked up with US 20 outside of Douglas. They followed 20 across Nebraska, dodging large towns, blowing through small ones, except to refuel. They turned south, crossing the Missouri into Iowa at Decatur instead of Sioux City, then trekked northeast, to reconnect with 20 and avoid the larger cities on the more direct US 30.

  Finally, short of Waterloo, Karla turned south on county roads. She made the last leg through Shellsburg and Toddville, and onto County Home Road. The turn at North Marion Road brought her home. In a thousand miles across three states they had met no other vehicle or seen a living person. Three times they spotted smoke, but they did not investigate.

  Karla’s fence was down, but she opened the gate and did a lap around the house through thigh high grass before she parked beside the garage. Her house looked better than she expected from the outside. The garage door and grati
ng had been smashed in. Windows were broken. A hole had been battered through the back wall of the house. She was thankful that whoever had been there hadn’t had good tools.

  She entered through the hole and called out a warning. She cleared the house room by room then the outbuildings. She assigned everyone a place for the night: the siblings and Jeff upstairs. Lamar on the main floor. She removed a fake wall in the kitchen, and Brittany helped her walk Ray to the cellar. Then she and Brittany hauled in their gear.

  Chapter 89

  Karla stomped grass and drove stakes. She jumpstarted a backhoe in the equipment barn and by dawn began digging the cellar hole for her future home. The others drifted out to watch, and she put them to work. Jeff got the hang of the Bobcat and cleared the rich topsoil. Brittany and Rainy took watch on the roof.

  After lunch, Karla dragged out mixers. The men poured footings while she transported pallets of concrete block to the hole. Not nearly enough. Her original plan had been only for two, but impossible to build alone in the chaotic days of that fall. As she looked at the strangers on her land she couldn’t help wonder if her stubbornness and independence had ruined everything.

  She could have recruited help with promise of food and shelter. But she did not trust people. Then it was too late. Now, Jessie was dead on a far mountain. Someday, Karla promised, she’d bring Jessie home.

  Toward evening, she went with Rainy into the hills to the west and returned with two deer. Rainy could shoot as she had said. Lamar seemed handy at preparation and she let him. She pulled the blackout curtains in the house and they ate at her dinner table by candle light, giving her portable generator a rest from the mixers. Brittany made gas-stove cooked cornbread. Karla donated canned peaches. She had not broken into her sealed storage. She wouldn’t until winter, if she could avoid it.