Greg said, “Don’t lie. You just want to find that bottle of Pappy.”
Bill smiled smugly. “Got me there. It just so happens I know where he used to keep it.”
Matt slept on the couch with the dim glow of the fire casting shadows over his body. He slept restlessly but without any fever, and the inflammation around the bite marks had already subsided. He was on the mend, which eased everyone’s minds.
With his back against the couch and his head at Matt’s feet, Greg sat staring into the fire. The flames flickered and the wood popped as it burned. Jody sat in the same recliner chair he had been sitting in since they’d arrived at the cabin. He seemed to be the only one interested in using it, so he called it his own. By day he sat in it, by night he slept in it, usually with a nightcap nearby.
Bill sat cross-legged with his back to the fire as he poured a heavy hand of twenty-three-year-old Pappy Van Winkle Family Reserve bourbon, green wax top still intact until he’d opened it seconds before. He passed the first glass to Greg, then Jody. Then, he poured himself a slightly heavier dram, taking in the moment with a stress-relieving sigh. Moments like this were as obsolete as heavy metal concerts and date nights in the city.
Enthralled, Greg took a sip. He let the amber fluid burn his chapped lips and marinate on his tongue, taking in each and every taste and aroma before swallowing. “I reckon we owe you a great deal, Bill. I can’t thank you enough for saving Matt.” He lifted the whiskey glass up to eye-level and read the inscription: It’s a mistake to push a man to violence when violence is what the man has dedicated his life to perfecting. Ranger Up.
He smiled. Ain’t that the truth.
“Don’t mention it. I’m just glad I was able to help. I can’t remember the last time I saw anyone outside the ranch, let alone this far out into the mountains. It was meant to be.”
“Cheers to that,” Jody said as he raised his glass.
Both Greg and Bill lifted their drinks in response.
“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you all end up in the old Perkins cabin, anyway?”
“We were headed into Denver off the 70 when we got hit head on by a damn big horde of withered,” Jody said.
“A horde?” Bill questioned. “I wonder if it’s that same one I was tracking east.”
“A mighty big one, at that. So, we detoured south on some other freeway. I believe the 80.”
“The 82. Heads right down to here,” Bill corrected.
“Yeah. So turned out, there was another horde not as big coming north, so we just sort of sped up our pace and took refuge as far off the roads as we could. Ended up here.” Jody smiled before taking another sip of his whiskey. “This is a damn fine drink. Thank you.”
Bill chuckled. “No, thank you. I always tried to get him to open this damn bottle and he wouldn’t do it. He’s probably turning over in his grave as we drink this. So, here’s to Jim.”
Bill raised his glass again. Jody and Greg met him with a clank and toasted to Jim.
“About those hordes you all came across. You said one came up from the south and the other was moving west on the 70?”
“Yessir,” Greg said.
“Just so happens I was tracking a large horde just northeast of here. I’m wondering if they’re one and the same, or if we have three hordes surrounding us.”
Jody said, “I don’t think we have much to worry about in ways of the two we came across. That big-ass one on the 70 was moving steadily west. They’re probably a long way out of here by now, roaming about Utah somewhere. The southern one probably merged with the tail of the westbound group. I imagine we would have seen or heard them by now.”
Bill considered the possibility the two hordes had merged and deployed west. It still left to question the horde he was tracking from the east.
“I’ll be honest, I think that horde you all saw coming up the 82 was the same one I was watching. Do either of you have a map I can look at real quick?”
Greg pulled the map out of a drawer on the side of the table and unfolded it on top. The edges were burnt and smelled of campfire.
“Okay, look here,” Bill said, reviewing the map. “We have two hordes, one here on the 70 headed this way. And then another, coming up this way from the mountains.” Bill pointed to a line on the map where the color changed from green to grey. “You all are right here, and I’m over here.” Bill showed them exactly where his ranch home was located. “I was over here just a few miles into the mountains when I first noticed that horde coming in off the 82. Then, the weather hit and they just disappeared when I came back out tracking them. You all are just far enough off the beaten path that I don’t think you would have seen them or heard them passing by. So, that leaves me to question where in the hell they went. Because I didn’t see them pass through, nor would I have from my home. Did they get lost in the hills? Did they pass us up? Did they flip a bitch and go back the way they came?”
The three of them looked at one another, confused, concerned, and buzzed.
“Why are you so damn worried about that horde, anyhow?” Jody asked. “If they’re gone, they’re gone.”
“Peace of mind, mostly,” Bill answered. “But I also don’t want to get snuck up on. I’d like to be able to secure my livelihood and my life if those beasts make their way through my property. I’ve been too lucky for all these years, and I can’t help but get the feeling that time is ticking against me.”
Greg nodded.
“If you all would help me track down that horde when the weather breaks, I’d be grateful. My gut is telling me they’re out in those hills plotting against me, waiting to come take me for everything I’m worth. My lovely lady disagrees…who am I to argue with her? So, I plan to keep taking these matters into my own hands and, well, just keep little tabs on the undead.”
“Why exactly are you tracking hordes, Bill?” Jody asked.
“The way I see it, it’s better to know where they are and where they’re going than not know at all. I avoid contact whenever possible. If I can stay ahead of them, I will.”
Jody smiled. “Seems reasonable enough. You can’t survive out here on your own without taking the necessary precautions. And, that seems necessary enough.”
“I don’t see why not,” Greg said. “But we need some help from you, as well. I know you have already overextended yourself, and for that, we’re grateful. However, we didn’t just end up here by happenstance. No, we’ve been looking for Matt’s momma. I can’t say either of us are the biggest fans of the woman, but that is what it is. It’s a damn ate-up story about how we came to this, but it’s the truth. I’ll save you the details but we need to find a large settlement out in Denver and—”
Bill cut him off. “Hate to be the bearer of bad news, big guy, but there are no settlements out in Denver.”
“What do you mean, no settlements?”
“I mean just that. There are no settlements. A convoy came through Denver a few months back. I went out that way hunting a herd of mule deer, stayed for about a week or so, lost the deer watching the convoy. Come to think of it, it’s been a while now, but nonetheless, they didn’t stop in for very long. They drove in with their mobile homes and their horse and left almost as quickly as they got there.”
Jody looked at Greg as if waiting for his reaction. But he remained blank-faced and speechless.
“Listen, Greg, you all seem like a pretty intelligent group. You have to be to make it as far as you have with as little as you have. I applaud your efforts. But I think you’re chasing a ghost story. Denver hasn’t been inhabited since the outbreak occurred. It was the first place to be evacuated because of its proximity to the source.” Bill swirled the little bit of liquor left in his cup before shooting it. “Denver is a ghost town, my friend, and it has been for the last decade and a half.”
Greg finished off his glass and set it down on the table with a loud clack. “No settlement, huh?”
“No settlement.”
Hearing Bill repeat it ba
ck to him hurt. It felt like someone had thrown a baseball at his face and then, for good measure, picked it up and thrown it back again. After all they had been through, after all they’d lost, Matt’s mom wasn’t even there anymore. How was he going to break that news to Matt? Last thing he wanted to do was hurt him. But what choice did he have?
“If you guys help me track that horde, I’ll take you all out there myself and show you.”
“Okay,” Greg said somberly. “I’d appreciate that.”
Jody put another log on the dying fire and watched as it came to life, filling the room with warmth and a dim orange glow. Matt turned over to his side and snorted.
“Imma hit the sack,” Greg said. “We’ve got a busy day ahead of us tomorrow.”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Jody added as he jumped over the side arm of the recliner and kicked the chair back to full recline. “Wake me when it’s time go.” He was asleep in seconds.
As the room fell quiet and the gentle snores of drunk men replaced their buzzed banter and chatter, Matt opened his eyes and gritted his teeth. They had all thought he was asleep, resting off the infection, but his mind kept him awake. His eyes had only been closed in an attempt to relax, but the sleep never came. The hate inside him rose and consumed him. His worlds had come together at cataclysmic speeds, hit head on, destroyed each other, then parted ways, leaving only a giant crater full of emotional baggage in its wake.
It infuriated him to know the journey was all for nothing. His mother, the letter, the hope of finding Michael were all gone. All gone!
He lay on the couch and wished he would die, because death would be freedom in comparison to what he felt.
18
Comfort Betrayed
Bill set off with Matt and the others at first light. In those early morning hours, the sky was a rainbow of colors and the sun bloomed off the horizon like a shy flower. The air was always colder, and the world was at its calmest.
But not Matt. He was not calm. His body ached from both the wounds on his physical body and the turmoil of his mind. He fought himself to stay level-headed and not become an emotional liability. In many ways, he felt hopeless. What was the point of any of it? Why bother pushing?
Matt dragged his broken body through the snow-packed streets of Aspen toward the home of a man he barely knew. A man who’d claimed his mother’s letter was probably a fraud because to his knowledge, no one lived in Denver.
It brought to question Matt’s purpose. What was his purpose now? Because finding Michael no longer seemed reasonable. At least, not for the rest of them.
As he pondered, the team pushed through knee-deep snow. They stepped on frozen bodies and broken bones. The human world was nothing more than wreckage and waste underneath their feet like sunken ships at the bottom of the ocean.
When they arrived at Bill’s ranch, they were greeted by a woman who was probably in her fifties but looked like she was still in her thirties—her face barely held a single wrinkle, there were no sunspots on her hands, and her skin shone like a freshly polished diamond.
She stood proudly by her front door, tall and unbending, sipping a cup of coffee out of a white mug with photos of children on it. Her upright and stoic posture hid the obvious fact she was probably fuming at her husband for not returning the prior night.
Bill extended an arm with his palm out toward the woman. “This here is my darling Cate.”
“It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you all,” Cate said. She introduced herself one by one to everyone. She shook Jody’s and Greg’s hands with a firm handshake, then Steve’s. She hugged Tara. “I see this one is pregnant. A few months, from the looks of it. I’ve got some stuff for you. Get inside.”
Tara smiled widely, bashful and rosy-cheeked.
When Matt hitched his way up, Cate took a step back and looked him over. “My, my, dearie. You sure have taken a beating. William told me you were a bit on the broken side, but he didn’t tell me you were bringing a fractured mind with you, as well.”
Matt was caught off guard by her keen intuition. It scared him as much as it hurt him to know she could see through his rugged and broken exterior, right down to his core.
“Don’t worry, love,” Cate added confidently. “I won’t hurt you.” She patted him on the back gently when she hugged him.
Never in Matt’s life could he remember a time when a woman’s touch had meant so much to him. He had never felt so welcomed and loved—and by a stranger, no less.
“And you, my lovely,” she said, stopping Bill with her palm placed firmly against his chest.
“Yes, my love?”
“You had me worried sick last night. I had dinner made up for everyone only to have to put it on bags of snow to keep it from going bad overnight.” She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You don’t get to leave me hanging like that…ever. You understand me?”
“I’m sorry. Matt was in bad shape. We had no choice but to stay back at the cabin.” Bill said. “Next time, I’ll send an owl.” He chuckled.
Cate let go and sniffed his lips. “Suppose you had no choice but to find that bottle of Poppy’s and drink that too, huh?” she said sharply.
All Bill could do was take a deep breath and accept his defeat.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” She gave him a hard smack on his hind end as he passed.
“You’ll pay for that,” he retorted.
“Don’t start something you won’t be able to finish.”
She closed the door, then went to the kitchen to make their breakfast.
It wasn’t the aroma of farm-fresh bacon being cooked, or the expertly preserved homestead they found themselves awed by. It was the couple themselves, Bill and Cate Bones. They were unlike anything any one of them had ever seen. They ran around the house acting like newlywed lovers, flirting and grabbing each other’s asses every chance available to them. It was distracting, but it was warmly welcomed.
Greg couldn’t see Cate as she flipped strips of pig meat, but the pop-sizzle of the fat frying filled the house wall-to-wall with joyous smiles. They had been living off scraps and expired boxes of backpacker foods. In the old days before the plague had wiped out most of humanity, they would have been considered hobos, undesirable, or transients because the reality was, they didn’t have homes or food and smelled badly. They moved from place to place, dumpster-diving and picking up garbage for supplies. It was a sad state to be in. They lived in whatever structures they could find, ate what they could scavenge or kill. They moved and they searched. They gathered, and what they gathered was never fresh.
Cate appeared from the kitchen holding a white plate in each hand. She gave one to Tara and another to Steve. Matt stared at the offering, stunned by the generosity: several strips of bacon, two fried eggs, toast with jam, and a side of chopped potatoes with ketchup drizzled over them. It took them a minute to realize the food was meant to be eaten, not stared at. Cate returned twice more with plates for everyone. The real icing on the cake was when she returned with cups of coffee.
Jody’s eyes widened when the aroma of roasted coffee beans filled the air. Cate poured French-pressed Viking coffee into matching white mugs for each of them. And when she turned the corner from the kitchen to the living room with a cup of joe in each hand, he almost spilled his breakfast, lunging after her to get a cup.
Greg laughed. “Dear God, Jody, contain yourself, you wild animal.”
“Come on now, friend, you and I both know just how much this cup of coffee means to me,” Jody said.
“It’s okay, dear. I take it as a compliment. Bill here, well, he just expects coffee every morning. It’s nice to feel appreciated once in a while,” Cate said with a big, toothy smile.
Jody set his breakfast plate down on the table and took the coffee mug in both hands. He raised it so the steam flowed off the coffee straight into his nose. “Oh, my. That smells so damn good. Thank you!” Then, he took a sip of the steaming-hot liquid, not caring one bit if it blis
tered his mouth, which it did.
“So, let’s get down to business, shall we?” Bill said.
Cate smirked. “Hon, let them eat in peace. You can talk about our issues after they get some food in their bellies and cleaned up.”
Tara looked up for the first time since getting her plate. “I like her…a lot.” Little bits of egg mixed with potato flew from her mouth as she spoke.
“No, it’s okay, I reckon. We came here to help out in exchange for help on your end. S’pose if Bill wishes to talk now, we can listen,” Greg said.
“I appreciate it,” Bill said as his wife shook her head and released a gentle sigh. “So, you all can stay here through the winter. If it works out, you can stay as long as you like. It just depends on how we all get along more so than what we can accomplish out there.” He pointed out the window with his fork. “We’ve been living on this ranch, just the two of us, for a while now, and to have a good group of hard workers like yourselves would be a welcome change. The winters out here can be less than forgiving, if you know what I mean.”
Matt limped around the dining room and disappeared into the kitchen to clean his plate. He’d eaten most of the food provided to him, but the pain meds and antibiotics caused his appetite to plummet. Matt wasn’t the kind of man to let the food go to waste, so he decided to place the plate on the counter and save it for later. He stared out the window over the sink. The view was amazing. He could see most of the mountain range and the road leading up to the ranch. He stood there, numb to the world, and listened to conversation in the other room. At what point did Greg plan to tell them the letter was complete bullshit?
“Anyway, the bottom line is this—in exchange for staying here, I need help around the ranch. Basic stuff: feeding the animals, tending the grounds, fixing things as they break, and so on. But the real concern is security. I’m not talking about roving patrols or anything benign like that. I’m talking about tracking down that horde that came in from the east and then disappeared.”
A Thousand Miles to Nowhere Page 18