End Days Super Boxset

by Hayden, Roger

  James held the map tightly in one hand and balanced his compass in the other. He had collected pebbles from the ground and filled his pockets with them. Every couple of meters he planned to drop a pebble to keep his pace count. Such methods were crucial in measuring time and distance. James was confident he could get the group there with little issue. He wanted to not only prove it to them, but to himself as well. He wished that the night before had been different.

  He didn't quite blame himself, but he did yearn to turn back the clock for a second chance. Could things have been done differently? Could the house have been saved? Or did it ever have a chance? Everything they had spent years planning for was taken away in one night. It didn't make any sense. If there was a lesson to be learned, James had no clue what it might be. It was time, however, to move on.

  “This way,” James said, pointing into the distance. “We're going north.”

  Searching for a New Home

  The journey led them, predictably, through the most undeveloped terrain in all of Milledgeville. There were no back roads, cleared paths, or street signs along their route. They had left their home behind, with no other option but to remain hopeful. They passed through open spaces between the trees, often blocked by sharp, thorny vines, connected from one tree to the next. It was late afternoon and they had traveled about two miles. The mushy ground was covered with layer upon layer of dead leaves. There was no doubting that fall was upon them.

  James led the group, carefully balancing his compass in hand. His pace-counting methods were based on basic military fundamentals. He estimated every two steps taken as a meter. And he dropped one pebble every 600 meters. It was important not to get distracted and lose count. Ten miles was roughly 160,000 meters, which meant he had a lot of counting to do.

  “What day is it?” Mark asked from the back of the line.

  “I lost track,” Janice said, walking in front of him with her hands gripped on the shoulder straps of her backpack.

  “It's Friday,” James called out, leading the group.

  “Yeah, but what's the date?” Mark asked.

  “October second,” James answered.

  “I forgot,” Mark said quietly to Janice, “James has that internal alarm clock. Bet he knows what time it is too.”

  “Oh, stop it,” Janice said.

  “Go ahead, ask him. You'll see,” Mark said, egging her on.

  Janice thought to herself and smiled. She looked up to see the back of James's head. A green camouflage hat covered the top of his black hair. He was darkly tan, almost red. Janice was certain he had some Indian in him but never thought to ask. It would make a good conversation piece later, if they needed something to talk about.

  “Hey, James,” she said.

  “Yup,” he answered.

  “Do you know what time it is?”

  James shook his head. “You wanna discuss solstices next?” he asked.

  “Very funny,” Janice said.

  The group followed him in a semi-straight line, with Paula behind James, then Christina, Janice, and Mark. Much of the terrain ahead consisted of hills, which made their journey all the more exhausting. Two miles of walking, and they could already feel the ache in their backs, the sores on their feet, and hunger in their bellies. It was not going to be an easy trip. The forest ahead was quiet and somewhat peaceful. The sky—still gray and cloudy—showed no signs of rain or thunder. They were lucky for the time being, as rain wouldn’t help with their navigation.

  They had veered 20 degrees east and were due to hit a ravine in a few hundred meters, according to the map. Christina held the map so James could focus on their direction and pace. She had been given a quick primer on map reading, which included cardinal directions, magnetic north, contour lines, grid squares, the map key, and distances measured by inches.

  They seemed to be going in the right direction, for all she knew. The area they were supposedly in, according to the map, was nothing but undeveloped terrain. There wasn't a road, building structure, park, town or neighborhood listed on the map anywhere within thousands of meters.

  James decided that once they reached the ravine, they would stop and rest for a bit. Time was gradually becoming an issue. It was nearly 3:00 p.m. and they were only a third of the way to their destination. Leaving in the afternoon had its problems. James knew that they weren't going to travel a full ten miles on foot before sundown. But if they kept to a specific regimen of brief rest intervals and a steady pace, they could arrive in the early evening. Before eight, if they were lucky. It was only ten miles, and James felt like he could walk that in his sleep. Or at least he hoped.

  They quietly marched forward, all lost in their own thoughts. The strangeness of walking through a dense and hilly forest, with no sign of any other human beings, was undeniably eerie. The sporadic singing of sparrows and bluebirds echoed throughout the endless wilderness surrounding them. Squirrels scurried up trees, and in the distance they saw a mother deer and her two young fawns. The wildlife before them dispersed instantly at the crackling sound of their footsteps against dead leaves and twigs.

  “Mom, look,” Paula whispered, not a moment too soon.

  “I see them,” Christina said. The deer vanished over a hill and out of sight.

  “Wish I had my crossbow,” James said to himself.

  “What?” Paula asked.

  James turned his neck to the side. “I said, I wish that I had my crossbow.”

  Janice overheard his comment and took immediate objection. “No you don't, James. You better not harm those deer. Not when I'm around.”

  “Hey, when it comes down to us or them, you're going to have to choose a side,” James said while trying to remain focused on his head count.

  “What are you talking about?” Janice asked. “Have you lost your mind?”

  James laughed. It was fairly obvious to everyone that he was messing with her.

  “I sure hope Tobias and Richie are OK,” Christina said. “I've been praying for them.”

  “They're going to be fine,” Janice said as they reached the top of one particularly large hill. Going down was always the easiest part.

  “I hope you're right. You know I worry. It's part of who I am,” Christina said.

  They hadn’t reached the ravine yet, and James was growing anxious. According to this pace count, they were nearing the end of where the mark should be. But he didn't see a body of water anywhere near them. He said nothing and kept his brief moments of doubt to himself. The group had trusted him so far, and he didn't want to lose their confidence so early in their journey.

  He had dropped 11 pebbles so far and made a mental note. They had traveled roughly 6,500 meters, or 4 miles. The prospect excited him; they were nearly halfway there. But they should have hit the ravine by now.

  Janice and Christina talked back and forth while Mark looked ahead, bored, sick of the forest and sick of walking. The first two miles were interesting as he hadn't hiked in years, but the novelty had worn off, and he was getting impatient. James looked ahead as far as he could. It all looked the same. There were no distinguishable landmarks or anything else that stood out. Christina had the map, but James didn't want to ask for it and arouse suspicion. His very pride felt on the line.

  “If I had a little girl, I'd name her Sweet Pea,” Janice said.

  “Now why would you do that to the poor child?” Christina asked. “How about Vanessa? That's a pretty name.”

  “Vanessa's nice. But I would still call her sweet pea in secret. My little sweet pea.”

  Mark rolled his eyes. “I don't like where this conversation is going,” he said.

  Christina laughed. “When Paula was born, Terrance and I had two names. One name was Ariel, and the other was Pauline. We settled on Paula.”

  Mark listened to their lighthearted banter, feeling annoyed and frustrated. He had already asked James for a status many times during the past hour, but received only vague generalities in response. Without a map or compass in his h
and and without any sense of direction, Mark felt lost.

  “How close are we now?” he asked for the fifth time that hour.

  James didn't answer. The back of his head bobbed up and down as Mark saw him drop another pebble to the ground.

  “James?” he asked again.

  James was busy fighting bouts of dread. He couldn't understand it. He knew the woods like the back of his hand. It hadn't been that long since he had ventured out into the wilderness. Two weeks before then, he was hunting as on any normal Sunday and had no problems finding his way around.

  We should have made it to the ravine by now, he thought. Something isn't right.

  They approached another hill, and with any luck a small body of water would await them on the other side. It would offer confirmation and put James's mind at ease. He could feel himself sweating underneath his clothes. He felt lightheaded and anxious and didn't know how much longer he could maintain a normal facade.

  “Another hill?” Mark said under his breath. “Why don't we just climb a mountain and get it over with?”

  “What was that, honey?” Janice asked.

  “Nothing. Just thinking out loud.”

  They ascended slowly up the hill as Janice and Christina continued to chat.

  “When I bought my first gun, Terrance was a little surprised. I mean, I started out small, just so he wouldn't throw a fit. It was a little Ruger .38 special. There were no objections so I went out and bought myself a rifle.” She let out a small laugh.

  “How do you afford it?”

  “Afford what?” Christina asked.

  “All those weapons,” Janice said.

  “Well, I'm no wealthy heiress. You just save a little here and there. One piece at a time.”

  “But ammunition is so expensive,” Janice said.

  “You're telling me.”

  “James, what's the status?” Mark asked again.

  By the time they reached the top of the hill, James felt instantaneous relief flood through him. At the bottom of the hill, a quarter mile ahead, a long ravine stretched from east to west.

  James cleared his throat, satisfied. “We’ve reached the ravine. We'll take a quick break here and then move out.”

  The news was a breath of fresh air. Their packs, some weighing upwards of fifty pounds, were becoming more uncomfortable by the hour. James hurried down the hill as the others followed.

  The group threw off their packs and plopped down on the ground the minute they got to the ravine, feeling a million pounds lighter. Their backs were sore and sweaty. It was hard to believe that they had only traveled half the way so far. James leaned against a tree and tilted his head upward, and rotated his neck. The sky was still overcast, nearly colorless, and surprisingly flat, given the prospect of rain. James felt good but concerned about the approaching dusk. A dark forest was no kind of place to be finding their way in.

  Christina sat close to Paula, examining her closely. “How are you holding up?” she asked.

  “Fine, I guess,” Paula said.

  Christina placed a 16-ounce water bottle in Paula's hand. “Make sure you're drinking plenty of water out here.” Paula took a drink from it. Christina dug into her backpack and pulled out some trail mix. “Here, eat this, it'll help build up your energy.”

  “I'm not hungry,” Paula said.

  “Doesn't matter. Your body needs to stay hydrated and you need to eat. You don't wanna pass out in the middle of the woods, do you?”

  “No,” Paula said as her voice trailed off.

  “Then do what I ask,” Christina said.

  Paula reluctantly took the trail mix and picked through the bag.

  “That's better,” Christina said.

  “Are we almost there?” Paula asked.

  Christina glanced in James's direction. He looked peaceful. His head remained tilted upward toward the sky and his eyes were closed. “Yes, honey, we're almost there,” she answered.

  “Are the people there going to be nice to us?” Paula asked.

  “I’m sure they will.”

  “What if they're cannibals like Mark said?”

  Christina covered her own mouth in shock. “Goodness, child, that's crazy talk. And what's wrong? I thought you wanted to go there.”

  “I do. I'm just wondering.”

  Christina wrapped her arm around Paula as they leaned against their packs. Paula rested her head on her mother's chest as Christina petted her head. “Everything is going to be OK,” she said.

  “You always say that,” Paula replied.

  “Well, it's true.”

  Mark and Janice sat on the ground next to each other gulping down their water bottles. Mark suddenly stopped himself, as if fighting the urge to drink more. “We need to conserve every last drop.”

  “James said we're half the way there,” Janice said.

  “I know, but we can never be too sure. Anything can happen. The last couple of days certainly proved that.”

  “You worry too much,” Janice said, taking another swig.

  “You don't worry enough,” Mark replied.

  Janice put a hand on Mark's knee. “At least we're together with friends,” she said. “People we can trust.”

  James's eyes flickered open. He could tell it had gotten darker out, even after such a short rest. Only ten minutes or so had passed, but he knew it was time to get moving.

  “All right,” James said, standing up and stretching. “Let's hit the road.”

  “Road?” Mark said.

  “You know what I mean. The beaten path. This is outdoor life, everyone, enjoy it while you can.” He picked up his large black backpack and threw it over his shoulders. After a few steps forward, James clapped his hands together. “This is where it's at,” he said.

  Mark leaned closer to Janice and spoke into her ear. “How many tickets do you think we could sell to the James Cook experience?”

  It was well past eight when they arrived near the enclosed area believed to be the survival camp. They were completely exhausted from the journey. It was very dark, but James used a flashlight to lead the way. As they got closer to the compound, he turned it off. It was time to be careful and prepared for anything. Though he believed in the good intentions of the camp, he didn't want to waltz up to the doors on faith alone. They stood behind a sprawling redwood, planning their next move. The mysterious camp ahead resembled a military fort from America's frontier days. Giant walls of interconnected logs were staked into the ground vertically, scaling fifty feet or higher. The ends of the logs had been sharpened on the top.

  “Are they expecting an attack by engines?” Mark asked.

  “Mark, stop it,” Janice said.

  Paula leaned against Christina as her mother wrapped an arm around her, holding her tightly.

  “We're finally here?” Paula asked, looking up.

  “It looks that way, sweetheart,” Christina said.

  James silently observed the place from his concealed position behind a tree, looking for any movement or activity. He could see a closed entrance comprised of two large plywood doors with some sort of locking mechanism in the middle. Everyone took a moment to catch their breaths and stretch. They had come a long way, and now it was time to find out if the trip had been worth it. James turned to address the apprehensive faces standing before him.

  “Mark and I will walk up to the gate and greet them. We'll leave our packs here but remain armed, just so they know that we'll defend ourselves if necessary.” He pointed to Janice, Christina, and Paula. “You three stay here while we have a word with them.”

  “Place looks deserted,” Mark said, scanning the perimeter.

  “The walls are pretty high,” James said. “It puts them at an immediate advantage.”

  “Good luck, guys,” Janice said, hoping to speed the process up. She wanted to have a shower and sleep in a bed above all, even if the people inside were creeps.

  James looked at Mark while hoisting the sling of his rifle over his shoulder. “You
ready?”

  Mark held up James's shotgun. It was locked and loaded. “I'm ready.”

  “All right. Let’s go,” James said. The two men walked off toward the camp. After a few steps, James turned to address Christina. “We won't take long, so keep your eyes open.”

  She gave a thumbs-up and lay on the ground in a prone position with James's hunting rifle aimed right at the gate.

  Mark and James approached the looming entrance with caution. The plywood door on the left had a small lookout slot. James expected little resistance. If the people who ran the camp didn't want visitors, he didn't think they would have broadcast their message repeatedly over the existing airwaves.

  They were inches from the door when James looked to Mark. “You good?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I'm good.”

  James took a step back and knocked on the door with force. He instantly felt a pain shoot up in into his wrist. There was no response at the door. Mark scanned the front gate and noticed a long rope to his right swaying in the air. The rope was connected to a bell at the top of the gate. “Look,” he said, pointing upward.

  James stopped himself from striking the door again. “Well, I'll be damned. Go ahead and pull it.”

  Mark tugged on the rope and the bell sounded. He pulled it again just to be sure. The spy slot on the door slid open moments later. James could see a pair of eyes, stern and commanding, watching them.

  “Who are you?” a man's voice said.

  “Hi,” James said. He was taken slightly by surprise. “I'm James.” He gestured to Mark. “This is my friend, Mark. We heard your radio message. That is, if we're at the right place. Is this the survival camp?”

  The eyes darted to the right. James could hear whispering. The man's eyes shifted back to them. “How many are with you?” he asked.

  “We have a small group. There's only five of us.”