A Thousand Miles to Nowhere

by David Curfiss

  Steve cinched the sling down on his rifle and slung it to his chest. “We’ve got a cabin about a half-mile from here. We’ll take him there.”

  Jody was sitting on the couch with his palms over his face when the door slammed open. Greg popped up from behind the kitchen counter.

  “What in the—” Greg stammered, but never finished his sentence.

  Tara busted in, snapping at Jody to move off the couch. He hesitated at first, but when he saw Matt being carried in by Steve and a strange man, he moved.

  “What the hell happened?” Jody asked.

  “Your friend here got attacked by wolves,” Bill huffed out as he dropped Matt on the soft fleece cushions of the couch. “He should be okay, but for now, he’s passed out from shock. Probably a little hypothermic, too.”

  “And who the hell are you?” Jody asked.

  Steve answered, “He’s the reason Matt’s alive.”

  “Okay, then, good enough for me. What can I do to help?”

  “Get a fire going, for starters. You all keep this place cold as an igloo.”

  Bill peered around the cabin. He recognized it. It had been a very long time since he had last been inside. It felt strange to him to see it hadn’t changed much since the last time he had been over—the same couch, the same table, the same whiskey bar, only with slightly fewer bottles.

  “I use to know the owners of this place,” Bill said, scanning the room slowly. “The Perkins. Jim and his wife, Mary. I used to come out here… My, how many years it’s been. I see you all found his whiskey collection. Ha! He used to keep a bottle of Pappy on hand. Don’t see it.”

  Jody and Greg looked at each other mischievously. A bottle of Pappy. The crown jewel of bourbons. The look of excitement was smeared across their faces with giant smiles and wide eyes.

  “Well, anyway,” Bill finished. “I need to see if I can track down the rest of that alpha’s pack. He had a bitch and three pups with him. They’ve been getting the better of my animals, and I can’t have that. Your friend—”

  Tara cut him off. “His name is Matt.”

  Bill smiled. “Matt here will be okay. I have some meds at the ranch. He’ll need them to kill off the infection those bites will leave. I’d keep an eye his temp as well. Those wolves don’t discriminate. They eat the dead as well as the living. So, let’s hope his teeth hadn’t been eating something rotten within the last few hours.”

  Every face in the house went slack with fear. Greg’s particularly went deathly pale. He looked like a dead man until the color returned to his face.

  “I’ll come back by later tonight and drop off the pill pack. If you all fancy, you can come back with me and stay on the ranch. I could use a few helpful hands, and my lovely wife would appreciate the company. Especially that of a little lady.”

  Tara rubbed her belly from the outside of the jacket. With her coat on, it was impossible to tell she was pregnant.

  “Thank you,” she said. “Are you a doctor? You seem like you really know what you’re doing. I’ve never seen anyone respond so quickly to wounds the way you did.”

  “No, not a doctor.”

  Tara frowned disappointedly.

  “But I was a medic professional of sorts. Back before all this shit, I was a PJ in the Air Force. But those days are long over.”

  “Well, we appreciate your fast action, friend,” Greg said. “I’m Greg.” He walked from the kitchen over to where Bill stood by the couch and offered him his hand. Bill took it with a firm grip. The man’s hand was calloused, like that of someone who spent his life doing hard work and heavy lifting. Definitely not that of a doctor’s touch. “That there is Jody. And you already met Matt, Steve, and Tara.”

  “Pleasure is mine. It’s been a while since anyone has come through here. It’s not exactly the most accessible of locations. I’m actually surprised you all managed to find this cabin. It’s out in the middle of nowhere. Why not stay in the park or one of the neighborhoods?”

  “Funny story,” Jody said. “How about we tell you all about it tonight when you come back?”

  Bill smiled. “Sounds like a plan to me, friends.” Then let himself out.

  The door closed on its own as Bill walked away into the morning glare of sunlight and snow. Inside, everyone sat perplexed at the mysterious arrival of Bill, the former Air Force pararescue. They stared at Matt, who moaned in pain as he slept, bandaged from head to toe in different wrappings.

  “Thoughts?” Steve said.

  “About what?” Greg asked.

  “About Bill.”

  The room lingered in silence for what felt like an eternity but was probably nothing more than fifteen or twenty seconds.

  “Yeah, I’ve got thoughts. I think we’re lucky as hell that man just happened to be there. I know it seems hinky as hell, but…well, I just don’t know. Strikes me silly he would waste medical supplies on a stranger if he meant harm.”

  Steve nodded, lips pursed. “Makes sense. I don’t like that he just happened to be there, but he was, and he did what he did to save Matt, so that has to be worth something.”

  “If it’s all the same to you all, I’ve got no reason to believe anything other than what he said as truth,” Greg said. “I can only imagine a man of his caliber being one of them others. He would have had the drop on us. And there wouldn’t have been a damn thing anyone of us could have done about it. I say we take him up on his offer and go to his place. Think about it. He has a self-sustaining ranch. He said it himself—he needs some help. Let’s help. I mean, we could spend a few more months here, but that whiskey bar and our few MREs won’t last much more abuse.”

  “I agree,” Tara added. “Get me the hell out of here.”

  “I’m with her,” Steve said with a smile.

  “There it is. When he gets back, we head out. Pack your shit, kiddos. This family is going on a road trip,” Jody said.

  “Okay, that was too much,” Tara said as she walked off.

  Bill tracked down the remainder of the pack to the body of their alpha. He watched as the bitch nosed the lifeless body of her mate. She howled a sorrow-filled cry when she realized he was never getting up again. It hurt Bill to see them in that state of distress. In his mind, killing that alpha was no different than killing another human. But he had to consider his wife. There comes a point where we all have to make self-serving sacrifices, he thought. And sadly, it had come down to that moment for him.

  He sighted in on the bitch and fired a single round into her head. The wolf pups howled and fled quickly, except one. Only one stayed by his dead mother and father. Bill lined up the red dot of his reticle and fired. The pup dropped dead on top of his mother’s snout.

  “Kills me to do that, little one.”

  He walked over and nudged the bodies with the tip of his boot. They were dead as dead could be. The other two wolf pups would probably die in the wilderness without the milk of their mother or the training from their father. They would die in due time, no need to track them down.

  Bill grabbed the wolves by their tails and dragged them off to skin them. Their fur would make good winter clothing. Their meat would go well in a stew. The innards were going to have sit out and rot. He would usually take those parts home for hog feed, but he had no way to carry a load of slimy guts. The skins and meat were going to be challenge enough, but he managed.

  When he arrived home, Cate had prepared sandwiches and a glass of whiskey. Nothing like a hot toddy to warm a man up after a hard day’s work in the wild.

  “I see you found the culprits,” Cate said.

  “That’s not all I found. There’s a group of survivors held up in the old Perkins cabin. Of all the places to end up, the Perkins. It’s so—”

  Cate finished the sentence for him. “In the middle of nowhere.”

  “Yup, in the middle of nowhere.” He walked over and kissed his wife on the lips. The feeling of her pressed against him warmed him inside and out. Then he grabbed half his sandwich. “Thank you, my lo
ve.” He bit into his lunch and began again. His words were muffled from bread and meat as he chewed. “Anyway, one of them got ate up by that pack I was tracking. I was able to save him, but he’s going to need some pain pills and meds. If that pack is responsible for those dead ones I found last week, all torn up with bite marks—you remember.” He stopped to finish chewing and chased it with a sip of toddy. “That boy is going to have more to worry about than just a normal infection. I figure if I go back about dusk, he’ll have turned. I don’t want to show up too soon. Just need them to see me for the man I am, nothing more, nothing less.”

  “You want me to make dinner for them? I can make a stew if you like,” Cate asked.

  “That would be wise, hun. I can’t imagine them staying there even if he does die. Doesn’t make sense. They’ll starve before that snow melts.”

  Bill took another sip of his hot toddy before he finished off the other half of his triangle-cut sandwich. He loved that she still cut his sandwiches in triangle halves. It was something his mother had done for him as a small boy. It was the only way she could get him to eat them.

  He joined his wife in the kitchen but stayed out of her way as she bounced from cabinet to shelf to oven to pantry, pulling out different knives for different cutting endeavors, pots big and small, pans and spatulas. It was an orchestra of chaos. He listened to her clanging and clacking and stared out the kitchen window as he did every day to watch the ridges that surrounded his land.

  There was a horde of withered out there somewhere, and they waited to encroach upon his land. They stood by in silence as he anticipated their arrival impatiently. But now, he had some outsiders to help. Maybe they could help him track the horde in exchange for helping their friend. Maybe they were the answer to his problems.

  17

  Wolf Bites, Whiskey, and Withered

  Matt woke up on the couch with the last memories of the attack still fresh in his mind. He sat up and swung his broken arm at the first thing he saw—Steve, where he sat at Matt’s feet, staring into the fire. The searing hot pain of broken bones grinding on one another damn near knocked Matt back unconscious. He yelped from the pain and grabbed his arm as if to hide it from the agony.

  “Whoa there, buddy,” Steve said, moving out of the way of Matt’s feeble attempt to bludgeon him, the shock and stress of the attack still at the forefront of his mind. “You’re inside, brother. The wolves are dead and gone.”

  Matt stared at Steve with wide, panicked eyes that focused on no one or nothing. “The hell happened?” he asked hoarsely. “How did I get inside?” He rubbed at the bandage around his neck and stared at his arm. “Who fixed me up? I thought I was dreaming all this.”

  “That wolf got you good, brother. I carried you inside with a guy named Bill. You can thank him personally for saving your ass when he comes back later.”

  Matt opened his mouth but was interrupted by Tara sprinting out of the bathroom. “How do you feel?” she asked.

  He wasn’t sure how to answer that question. It seemed obvious how he felt. He was wrapped up in bandages, splinted, and felt queasy from blood loss. Not to mention, he had a pounding headache, chills, and the room wouldn’t stop spinning. How did people normally feel after a wolf attack that almost left them for dead in the mountains of Aspen?

  Probably pretty shitty.

  “Yeah, I’ve been better,” Matt finally said with a smirk.

  “Sorry, Bill said we had to keep an eye on you for infection, so I’ve been worried. You look like shit.”

  Matt closed his eyes. The spinning seemed to never end. He wanted the world to stop moving. But it didn’t, and it forced putrid, yellow bile out of his mouth and nostrils. The acrid taste left his mouth and throat feeling raw.

  “Uh,” he gasped as the last of his stomach made its way to the floor. “The damn room won’t stop spinning.” He lay back down, shivering.

  Both Tara and Steve looked at each with concern. Then they both turned back to Matt and stared at him the way new parents stare at their newborn baby the day they bring them home for the first time—as if he would magically disappear.

  Tara put the back of her hand on Matt’s head and grimaced. “He’s burning up.”

  Steve left the room to get Greg while Tara checked over his wounds. Matt wiggled in protest as she moved around clothing and bandages to look at the puncture wounds. The bite marks on his neck were red with inflammation and hot to the touch. There was also some yellowish-white pus forming inside the holes.

  “Good,” she mumbled.

  “What’s good?”

  “Your bites are infected, but you’re probably not. I was worried.” She turned her head away from Matt and used the back of her hand to wipe away tears that began to form.

  Steve returned with Greg and Jody. Greg placed a heavy hand over Matt’s forehead, causing his neck to crank back from the pressure. The man was not known for his gentleness. Matt didn’t need Greg to touch his head to know he had a fever. Greg yanked on the bandages around Matt’s neck and looked over the infected neck bites.

  “Yeah, he’s already getting infection. Don’t reckon it’s anything more than superficial. Hopefully, Bill gets back here soon with them meds he promised. If not, well…we’ll figure something out, won’t we, son?”

  Matt forced a smile. Who was this Bill character, and why did everyone seem to trust him so easily? He appreciated the life-saving measures. Odds were he’d be dead had this Bill guy not shown up and saved him. But how, how had Bill known to be right where Matt was? What were the odds?

  Maybe Matt should be a bit more grateful and a bit less concerned, because the reality was, in this world where every medical supply and bullet counted, no one with ill intentions would waste those supplies on a stranger. The thoughts were there, confusing him and causing him to want to vomit again. He closed his eyes and let the room spin freely.

  The sky faded from the bright blues of a clear day to the pastels of dusk. The night looked promising as they all watched out the cabin window for Bill to return. Steve hoped for good weather to travel in. Matt needed it. They needed it. As the pastel sky faded into night and the last of the sun was hidden behind the horizon, Bill walked in, carrying a bag full of medical supplies as he’d promised.

  Bill dropped the bag on the floor next to Matt as he slept on the couch. He took a seat on the coffee table and thought how pissed off his friends would have been if they’d seen him sitting on their table with his mud-covered boots still on.

  “He’s burning up,” Bill said. “How long has he been like this?”

  “A few hours,” Steve said.

  Bill looked over the wounds, touched the glands of Matt’s neck, and took his blood pressure and pulse by hand. Matt seemed to sleep through the entire check-up, so Bill stood and leaned over his body, then rubbed a knuckle into his chest.

  Matt’s eyes shot open as he yelped.

  “Good,” Bill said. “He’s not infected. His wounds are, but he isn’t.”

  Greg chuckled. “Good, you’re still alive.”

  Matt scowled. “Just sleeping. I feel like shit.”

  Bill bent down into his pack and pulled out two white bottles. He cracked the lids and dumped out a pill big enough for a horse from one and two similar-looking white pills from the other.

  “Here,” Bill said as he dumped them into Matt’s mouth. “One is ibuprofen for the inflammation. It should help with the fever and chills as well. The other two are an antibiotic I can’t pronounce. Those will help with the infection. That is, if they still function like they should.” Bill put the bottles back in the bag and sat it on the table. “I recommend you all come back with me in the morning. He needs the night to rest and let the drugs kick in. If the infection looks better when he wakes up, and he isn’t vomiting, shaking, or dead, we can see if he’s well enough to walk back. Otherwise, I’ll have to go back to my house, get my horse, and fix a gurney up for him. Which I’m okay with, but I’d feel a whole lot better if he could walk h
imself out of here.”

  Bill looked around the silent room. He could tell they were all worried sick about Matt. But then he noticed something else. The woman, Tara, was rubbing her stomach. And it appeared to him that no one—including her—seemed to notice that she was doing it.

  “Tara,” Bill said breaking the silence. “You okay? I can’t help but notice you’ve been rubbing your stomach since I got here. You were doing it this morning, as well.”

  Tara stopped rubbing and blushed. Everyone in the room turned and looked at her, including Matt.

  Steve let out a nervous sigh. “Yeah, about that.”

  Tara looked over at him and nodded, as if telling him it was okay to say something.

  “Tara’s pregnant. She has been for a few months now.”

  The room fell silent, and faces frozen in shock. Only the sound of the wind blowing outside could be heard. But once it wore off, the room erupted with cheers. Steve got slapped on the back by Jody, then hugged by Greg. Then they all hugged Tara while Steve watched with some embarrassment from the side.

  Bill stood next to Matt, smiling, and felt a bit ashamed for inadvertently breaking the news, but he supposed it was going to happen sometime. A pregnancy couldn’t exactly be kept a secret for too long.

  As they all congratulated them, she started up with the tears again. Greg grinned and wiped them away for her. “Ain’t nothing to be crying about, love. I reckon Bill here came along just in time.”

  “Guess I did,” Bill said, abashed. “I can definitely help deliver a baby. I deliver for my cattle every year. Not much difference.”

  Tara smiled, then fled to her bedroom. Steve glanced around the room before following after her.

  “Anyway, if it’s all the same to you, I’m going to stay here tonight. My knees aren’t what they used to be and all this back and forth is hurting the joints. Besides, I’d like to keep an eye on Matt. Make sure he doesn’t go into any type of distress.”