They collected a big pile in just a few minutes, as it was clearly not a place where anyone had camped before so there was a vast supply of available wood. A lot of it was still damp around the outer bark, but Mitch used his hunting knife to split some of the drier branches to get at the bone-dry wood inside. Once he had enough kindling, he collected dry pine needles and slivers of bark in the same way, and fished in his pack for one of the butane lighters he always carried while hunting.
Once the fire was going, he left April to tend it and walked off some distance to skin and dress the rabbit. He was looking forward to freshly roasted meat after so many days of travel on a mostly carbohydrate diet. When he had the animal quartered and ready, he cut a couple of small green saplings with forked branches and sharpened the ends to make skewers for the meat. He returned to the fire and gave one to April, letting her hold her share in the flames while he held his own.
“Kinda ironic, I guess; the game warden’s son poaching rabbit out of season, isn’t it?” Mitch sighed.
“I’m sure your dad would understand, given the circumstances. He must love wildlife to do that job, right?”
“He does. He loves everything about being in the woods. I reckon that’s where I got it. He sure taught me most of what I know, although he’s not nearly as into archery as I am.”
“You’re good with it all right. I’ve never seen anybody shoot a bow like that, except in movies, of course. Is it hard to learn?”
“Not the basics. It takes a lot of practice to get consistent with it, but I guess anything’s like that. Have you ever shot a bow before?”
“Never. I would like to try it, though.”
“Sure. Maybe tomorrow when we take a break somewhere, and you can at least get a feel for it. This bow I’m carrying is based on the medieval English longbow, which is widely regarded as one of the best designs ever, at least before modern technology and all those contraptions they make now called ‘compound’ bows that are really just arrow-shooting machines. Might as well use a gun as use one of those. I’m into this for the traditions of mastering a primitive weapon. I have a couple of Native American–style bows that are really cool, too.”
As they talked they turned the roasting pieces of rabbit, and the afternoon faded to twilight by the time the food was done. Cooking it this way, it was inevitable that the meat would be charred on the outside, but Mitch assured April it would be delicious anyway, though he regretted not having any seasoning to put on it. When it was sufficiently burnt-looking, he cut into all the pieces with his knife to make sure they were done on the inside, and they began to eat.
“This is pretty awesome!” April said as she chewed the first bite.
“Yeah, wild rabbit is one of the tastiest game animals of all,” Mitch said. He felt a deep satisfaction that she was pleased, and the pride of a hunter who has provided necessary meat. This would fuel his fantasies even more: a successful hunt with a primitive weapon, a fire in the darkening forest, its flames lighting the face of a beautiful woman. Mitch had dreamed of such things but never expected them to happen. He wanted the moment to last as they shared the meal in a scene that could come from somewhere at the dawn of humanity, before the first plow was invented or the first seed planted, when all men and women lived from the bounty of the forest.
Suddenly a loud crack that could only come from a high-powered rifle shattered the dream. They both dropped their food in a panic, and Mitch leapt across the fire, grabbing April in his arms and pulling her down with him as he flattened himself to the ground. His ears were still ringing with the report of a shot fired at close range as he lifted his head enough to scan their surroundings. The shooter was close, really close, and he found out how close when he saw a man step out from behind a large pine tree between their camp and the pipeline just a short distance away. The man held a scoped deer rifle at hip level, pointed right at them, and he yelled as he started walking closer: “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TWO DOING HUNTING ON MY LAND?”
NINE
The thunder of the rifle came so suddenly out of the stillness and fading daylight that the sound didn’t register in her brain at first, but Mitch’s reaction quickly brought her to the reality that once again they were in danger. She felt a rush of adrenaline when she heard the shooter yell his questioning accusation, and she pulled clear of Mitch even as he was beginning to get to his feet to face this new threat. Looking in the direction of the voice, she saw a man step into the firelight from the dark woods, his rifle leveled and menacing as he walked closer. It was clear that he was upset about their presence on what he was claiming was his land, and apparently he had fired the first shot to make sure he had their full attention. Now he was coming closer to either ask more questions or to ensure he would not miss when he shot again.
“We’re just passing through,” Mitch said. “I didn’t know we were on private land here. We’ve been walking the pipeline, heading east. I didn’t see any posted signs.”
“Well it damned sure is posted! I don’t need any signs. My house is just across that hollow there on the next ridge. I own all this land whether this damned Gulfsouth pipeline goes through it or not.”
As he stepped closer, April could see that the man was middle-aged with graying hair showing under the edges of his baseball cap and a bulging midsection that was impossible to hide under his dark sweatshirt. The leather sling on the rifle he carried hung loose as he pointed the weapon at Mitch from waist level.
“I’m sorry,” Mitch said. “We didn’t know. I didn’t see a house or know there was a road anywhere near here. I don’t have a map. We’re just trying to go east on the pipeline to get across 49. My family owns land over on Black Creek. I wouldn’t mess with anything on anyone’s private land. We just didn’t know.”
“Well, you damned sure should have known! You knew it wasn’t your land. What’s that you’ve killed there, a rabbit? You’re stealing food right off my family’s table by killing game on my land. I’m not about to tolerate any trespassing after what’s happened this week. I’m about ready to start shooting anybody I see out here on sight, especially poachers from some city coming out here acting like they own the place.”
He moved the muzzle of his rifle closer to Mitch’s chest and told him to step back, away from where the bow and quiver of arrows were propped up on a log beside the fire. Then he kicked them aside with enough force that April wondered if the bow would be broken. When he turned to her, he ordered her to get to her feet as well. She did as she was told and he stepped closer, shoving his rifle barrel into her stomach, just above the navel.
“Leave her alone,” Mitch said. “She didn’t kill the rabbit, I did.”
“Shut up! Both of you are trespassing.” He turned his attention back to April and looked her up and down. “Where are you from? I know you’re not from anywhere around here.”
April didn’t answer. She was fed up with being threatened and having guns pointed at her. But it was different this time. This was just one man, with one gun and no badge, and he had made the mistake of getting too close. With the end of the rifle at contact range, touching her body, she knew that all she had to do was get out of line with the barrel before he could pull the trigger, and with the bolt action rifle, he would only have time to fire one round. She had drilled this very thing countless times with her dad, often just playing around, but in serious training, too. It could be accomplished by either moving the barrel itself, moving her body out of line with it, or a combination of both. It would be suicide to try it if he were even one or two paces away, but touching her with the muzzle as he was doing, he unknowingly gave up all the advantages he had of having a gun in the first place.
It was obvious that this was probably the first time he had ever held someone at gunpoint, and he was letting his anger get the best of his judgment. She sized him up as these thoughts went through her head. He was clearly out of shape and, without a gun, probably wouldn’t have the nerve to confront anyone. He was certainly not as intimid
ating as any of the three in the group that attacked her on the road. April made her decision. She looked in Mitch’s direction and feigned a startled expression as if he were the one up to something. It worked. The man followed her gaze, taking his eyes off of her just long enough to give her time to act.
April pivoted her entire body ninety degrees as she stepped forward with her right foot, the sudden rotation moving her out of line with the rifle barrel as she simultaneously parried and grabbed it near the muzzle with her left hand. At the same time, she brought her right arm across in a vertical inward block so that her forearm smashed into the back of the man’s extended left elbow, locking out his arm and nearly dislocating it as she maintained control of the barrel with her left hand. This push-pull motion, combined with the solid planting of her body into a horse stance with her right foot between both of his, immediately pulled the man off balance. He bent over at the waist, completely caught off guard by her sudden movement. He did not even manage to get off the single shot that would have missed her anyway, as he had taken his finger off the trigger.
With her forward step-through, April’s right foot was in the perfect position for the lifting heel kick that came next, smashing straight up into his groin as she pivoted her upper body even more. Upon impact, the man relinquished his grip on the rifle, even before her knee cocked to follow up with a smashing back kick to his left inner thigh. She could have as easily directed the last kick into his knee instead, resulting in a crippling injury, but it wasn’t necessary. He went down instantly and was crumpled on the ground in agony from the groin kick. April took another step away to create distance as she turned the rifle on him in case he tried to get back up. She glanced at Mitch and saw that he was speechless.
“I’ve about had enough of guns being pointed at me!” she said.
“Are you crazy? You could have gotten us both killed!”
“But I didn’t, did I? You don’t know what he would have done if we had done nothing.”
Mitch picked up his bow and drew an arrow from his quiver, nocking it on the string just in case. He stepped closer to where she was guarding the fallen man with the rifle. “Have you ever used one of those?”
“Of course,” she said. “Why don’t you look around, make sure he is alone? He’s not going to try anything else.”
April was pleased with herself as she backed up to the fire, keeping the man covered while Mitch slipped away quietly with his bow to the pipeline to make sure there was no one else around. She had never disarmed a gunman in real life before, but in this case she had been confident she could do it. After what she had already been through, she realized she was going to have to stay up on her martial skills. The man on the ground was slowly catching his breath as he lay there bent in a fetal position with both hands between his legs.
“I didn’t want to have to hurt you,” April said, “but you asked for it when you shoved a gun in my belly.”
He looked up at her, his face still twisted in pain. “I . . . I wasn’t going to shoot you or anything. I’m just trying to keep people off my land.”
“Mitch told you we were just passing through. We have a long way to go and we were just camping for the night and planning to leave at first light. People have been threatening me or trying to kill me or take my stuff ever since I left New Orleans, and I’m tired of it. We wouldn’t be walking through here at all if some thieving cops hadn’t taken my car.”
April looked up as Mitch stepped back into the circle of firelight. It was almost fully dark now, and the forest was closing in around them. But with the skies clearing and an almost full moon rising over the right-of-way of the pipeline, Mitch had been able to see quite well out in the open. “There was only one set of tracks in the mud besides ours. It looks like whoever made them came from where he says his house is. I think he is alone.”
“I am alone,” the man said, looking up at Mitch. “I’m just looking out for my family. Ever since the blackout, I’ve been walking my property lines to check things, and I always carry my rifle, in case I see a deer. When I came up the pipeline over there, I saw your fire; that’s how I knew you were here.”
“Yeah, I can’t believe I was that stupid,” Mitch said, looking at April. “I’ll be more careful about checking out the area next time we camp.” He turned to the man on the ground, who was now sitting up, apparently feeling a little better as he recovered from the kick.
“Like I told you,” Mitch said, “I’m a landowner, too, well my dad is, anyway. I’m sorry about the rabbit, but I thought we were on timber or oil company land or something instead of somebody’s homestead. We haven’t crossed a road in a while and haven’t seen or heard any people.”
“My place is at the end of a long gravel road,” the man said. “You wouldn’t have heard anything. Like I told your girlfriend here, I wasn’t going to shoot either one of you. I just can’t take any chances. I’ve got a wife and two kids at my house depending on me to protect them. You never know what people are going to do after what happened. I thought we were far enough out in the country to not have to worry about people coming through here, but I guess not.”
“We’re traveling the pipeline because it’s safer than walking down the road. And she’s not my girlfriend, but April here has already been attacked on the road. That’s how we met.”
“Well, I guess whoever attacked her got a surprise,” he said as he looked back at April. “Where did you learn those moves? Crap, I never saw what hit me! I guess I won’t make the mistake of underestimating a young girl again.”
“The mistake you made was getting too close,” April said. “If you’re going to point a gun at someone, you don’t give it to them by shoving it right against their body.”
“Just be glad all you got was a kick in the balls,” Mitch said. “The three men who attacked her back on Highway 11 are all dead.”
April glared at Mitch to shut him up. She couldn’t believe he would run his mouth about that. The man on the ground started to say something, but she cut him off. “He’s just kidding,” she said. “What’s your name?”
“Mark, Mark Rainey.”
“I’m April, and this is Mitch.”
“Do you know if this pipeline goes all the way across Highway 49, Mark?” Mitch asked.
“Oh yeah. It goes all the way through Mississippi and I think across Alabama to Georgia. This is a major Gulfsouth gas line.”
“Good, I thought so.”
“Where are you headed?”
“Not that far, just across 49 and then we’ll work our way to the north. My family’s land is up around Black Creek right on the Perry County line, between Brooklyn and Janice Landing, if you know where that is.”
“I know about where it is,” Mark said. “That’s a long way to walk.”
“Not nearly as far as I’ve already come,” Mitch said. “So, have you been out here at your place the whole time, ever since the pulse hit?”
“Yes. Thank God I rode my Harley in to work that day. I manage an auto parts store in Purvis. It’s only about fifteen miles from here. I picked up my oldest boy from the elementary school and headed home right after it happened. My wife doesn’t work, and my younger one is just three years old. We were pretty well set with supplies and have been keeping it that way ever since Katrina, when the power was off here for almost a month. I haven’t gone anywhere except to ride the bike a few miles and check on some neighbors closer to town.”
“You must have one of the older Harleys,” Mitch said.
“I do. It’s an old FXR. I bought it brand new in 1976 and have kept it well maintained. Best machine I’ve ever owned, and I’m sure glad I didn’t sell it now.”
April was still holding the rifle as they talked, not quite sure where things were heading as Mitch made conversation with Mark, telling him about David’s Mustang, how she had put the carburetor back together by herself, and then how they had lost the car to the militant cops at the roadblock.
“That doesn’t surpris
e me at all,” Mark said, “especially at a time like this. Even in normal times, I’d drive fifty miles out of my way to avoid that town. The police there have always acted like the Gestapo.”
“That’s what my dad always said.”
“Look, I’m sorry about pointing another gun at you two. I got what I deserved, and I’m lucky that you two are good people and didn’t kill me for it. I know I overreacted, but this situation has really made me nervous, having to look after and protect my family all on my own out here. I guess we’re so isolated I just expected the worst when I saw your fire and realized strangers were on my land. You’re welcome to go ahead and camp here tonight, but I need to get back home. My wife would have heard my rifle shot, and she’s probably worried about me still being out here so long after dark.”
April gave him back his rifle, but not before working the bolt four times to eject the remaining cartridges from the magazine.
“I’m sorry about your ammo, but I can’t just hand a loaded gun back to someone who just pointed it at me,” she said, as she stooped to pick up the cartridges and slip them into her pocket.
“Oh, I completely understand, and that’s the smart thing to do. Don’t worry about it. I’ve got plenty more ammo for this rifle back at the house. Anyway, whether you stay here tonight or not, I wish you both the best of luck. Be careful and don’t ever let your guard down. Hopefully this situation will be resolved before too many more people get hurt.” With that, he turned and disappeared back into the dark in the direction from which he’d come.
“That was interesting,” April said.
Mitch just looked at her like she was insane. “I’ll say. I can’t believe what you just did. That was amazing. You’ve got a lot of explaining to do. I’ve never seen anyone move like that. But first, let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Now?”
“Yeah. The moon is almost full. It’s plenty bright out there on the pipeline. I’ll feel a lot better if we put a few miles between us and this place before we sleep.”
The Darkness After: A Novel Page 7