Forsaken World (Book 3): Rite of Passage

by Watson, Thomas A.

  Reaching down and patting the dogs, “Yes, they are,” Johnathan grinned. He and Bill had worked with the dogs every day, teaching them commands. When they moved out, Ann would stay with Bill at the back of the pack and Dan would stay with Johnathan at the front.

  Turning her gaze to the valley below, “I don’t think we would’ve made it out of Nevada without the horses,” Sandy admitted.

  “We would’ve,” Johnathan said confidently. “It just would’ve taken us a week longer. Now if it was summer, I would agree with you. I forgot just how dry it is out west. Back east, you can’t go more than a few miles without coming to a source for water.”

  Looking down at the grass around them, Sandy could see it was drying up, even with the rain shower they’d had a few days ago. “If we can keep this pace up, we should make it through Colorado before June,” she said, hearing a horse snort. Jerking her head, Sandy saw Johnathan’s horse shaking its head then return to grazing. Instinctively, she lifted her binoculars up, scanning around.

  They had learned real fast that the horses and dogs could smell trouble before they could see it. In the two hundred miles it had taken them to get out of Nevada, they had never seen a stinker, much less a human. They did find another farm, but it had only had grain for the horses and they’d been able to refill their water.

  Barely over the Utah border, the horses and dogs had let them know that trouble was close. It hadn’t taken long for them to find out why the animals were acting skittish when they had started down a mountain and a group of stinkers had moved out of a ravine below them. Johnathan had climbed off his horse, handed Sandy the reins, and had taken out the five stinkers with his bow.

  Then, Johnathan had called a stop as he and Bill worked with Dan and Ann, teaching them not to bark at the stinkers. Sandy was certain if the dogs wouldn’t have barked, the stinkers would’ve never come out of the ravine.

  Too many times to ignore, they had seen stinkers hiding in the shade during the day and moving around at night. Now, if the stinker had seen or heard something, it would move during the day heading off in that direction. It didn’t seem to matter if what they had seen or heard was days ago. The other exception was if a stinker saw another stinker moving along during the day at a fast pace, it would join.

  What was weird was the more stinkers in the pack moving, the faster other stinkers would join the caravan.

  Before they’d found the ravine they were now camping in, a few more small groups of stinkers had crossed their path. Johnathan and Bill had killed the first one when Dan and Ann had barked but with the last two groups, the dogs had just growled to let them know that stinkers were near.

  Sandy and Mary had moved up with their bows and had taken out those two small groups. When they were done, everyone had praised the dogs on not barking.

  After moving hard for five days, they had set up camp in the ravine and took a day of travel off. It was easy to see that the horses were tired by then. “I think we will be able to move much faster when we get out of these mountains,” Sandy stated, lowering her binoculars after not seeing anything.

  “Babe, if we took nothing but valleys we would be making better time, until you factor in that trouble stays in the valleys,” Johnathan said, then drained his coffee. “Want some deer?”

  Nodding, “Thank you,” Sandy said and Johnathan moved down to the camp where he and Bill had set up a smoker and smoked a deer they had shot before setting up camp. Truth be told, Sandy wasn’t fond of deer, but meat was food. Since this had started, Sandy had eaten so many things that she knew in her regular life, she wouldn’t have done on a dare.

  Coming across the ocean, more than once she and the others had eaten sushi and raw seaweed. A week into their trip, the desalination pump on the boat had started going out and was barely making ten gallons of water a day. Johnathan and Bill had rigged up a solar oven on the bow to desalinate and halfway across the ocean, that was their only means of water when the desalination pump quit for good. With such a short supply of water, Bill and Johnathan had started growing beards.

  Glancing around the valley, Sandy turned to see Mary walking up the ravine as Bill and Johnathan moved to the horses. “Got some breakfast,” Mary said, holding out a chunk of meat.

  “Thanks,” Sandy said, taking it and turning to watch Johnathan and Bill as they started to saddle the horses. “It’s our turn to saddle up the horses.”

  Eating her own deer jerky, Mary waved her other hand at the husbands. “I told them that, and they said keep watch and they would do it,” Mary replied, then gave a dreamy sigh. “I love those horses.”

  Cracking a grin, Sandy nodded and then tore a chunk off the jerky. “Said the same thing,” Sandy said, chewing the meat. “If we keep this pace up, we’ll be home by the end of summer.”

  “It shouldn’t take that long. We covered over two hundred miles in four days,” Mary pointed out.

  Shaking her head, Sandy explained. “No. Johnathan said as we travel east, we will be detouring more around groups of stinkers and other trouble.”

  Letting out a groan, Mary looked around at the towering peaks around them. “I hope they stay on the lower peaks because some of those mountains are eight thousand plus,” she remarked, turning to look at Sandy.

  “I understand following ridgelines and staying out of valleys, but they head for one of those,” Sandy said, waving her hand at a nearby snowcapped peak. “I’ll punch them in the mouth.”

  Seeing Sandy was serious, Mary shrugged her shoulders. “Don’t think I’ll try and stop you,” she huffed. “When we rode down into the Grand Canyon, my horse stumbled once and I peed in my saddle.”

  “Want to get some bow practice in before we load up?” Mary said, finishing off her jerky.

  “Yeah, I want to shoot them at twenty and thirty yards like Johnathan and Bill do,” Sandy admitted, following Mary down the ravine to the camp.

  Grabbing their bows and arrows, they moved over to a tree stump sitting beside a small stream running down the ravine. A small piece of red cloth was tacked in the middle of the stump. “Bathing and washing gear in cold water sucks,” Mary commented, pulling back her bow.

  When Mary released, Sandy pulled hers back. “Hot water on demand is one of history’s greatest moments,” she said, letting the arrow go. From thirty yards away, both hit close to the cloth.

  “Aim small, miss small,” Johnathan recited behind them.

  “I’ve only lost half a dozen or so arrows shooting at stinkers,” Sandy said as Mary shot. “Knowing that what you’re shooting at can kill you, gives you great motivation.”

  Walking over, Johnathan kissed her and then grabbed the rest of the gear, carrying it over to the horses. Helping Johnathan secure the gear on the pack horses, Bill looked over at the wives and at the stump, seeing a dozen arrows embedded. “Since we have started, they have gotten good,” Bill observed, then he and Johnathan slung the water jugs over the pack horses. “You make a decision on where we are trying for?”

  “Depends on how our time is going over those mountains, well to the north of them,” Johnathan said. “After we cross I-15, it’s twenty-four miles to Hwy 89, but we will be following those mountain roads and going up to eight thousand feet. I’m thinking we will be stopping at Hwy 89.”

  “Glad you didn’t want to go over the middle of those mountains. That one peak to our east is like eleven thousand feet,” Bill huffed, watching the wives pull their arrows out of the stump.

  “If there wasn’t snow up there, I would,” Johnathan admitted as the wives came over. After they hung their quivers off their saddles, Sandy and Mary came over to them. Taking the topo book, Johnathan handed it to Sandy. “Where are we?”

  Giving a groan, Sandy flipped the book open and pulled out her compass. “I like road signs,” she mumbled, looking around. When she pointed at the page, Johnathan smiled and stepped close to her.

  “This is our route,” he said, moving his finger along the map to follow a few small black
lines that let Sandy know that it was a dirt road. When there wasn’t a road, they were following a ridge up or down.

  Looking down at the book closely, Sandy saw the elevation lines and cut her eyes to Johnathan. “Getting kind of high,” she protested.

  “Yeah, but we aren’t going any further south. That’s too high,” Johnathan said as Sandy glanced back at the map and nodded.

  Pointing at the page, “I thought you didn’t want to get close to an interstate unless it was to cross,” Sandy noted. “We won’t be far from I-70.”

  “At our closest we’ll be like four miles, but we’ll be over two thousand feet higher,” Johnathan assured her, watching Sandy go over the map and then passing the map to Mary so she could memorize the route.

  When Mary was done, she put the topo book in a plastic bag and moved over to her horse, stuffing the bag in her saddle bag. They had two atlases, but the topo book helped them so much more and it stayed in the middle of the group. “Think we can find one of those for Colorado?” Mary asked, climbing on her horse.

  Grunting as he climbed in the saddle, “We are damn sure going to try and find one,” Bill replied, adjusting his AR and then his bow. “Those things have saved us a lot of travel.”

  With everyone ready, Johnathan kicked his horse. They were across the valley and starting up the other side when darkness finally descended. Everyone was surprised at just how well they could see at night. Even with a cloudy sky, they could see fairly well.

  Reaching the ridge that overlooked I-15 they stopped, scanning over the valley that the interstate snaked through. In the twenty mile stretch they could see, they only saw a few stopped cars but several groups of stinkers spaced far apart heading south. Under the light from the stars and moon, the stinkers just looked like shadows moving down the road.

  “How do you want to cross?” Bill asked, looking at the small animal trail they would take down the slope.

  Looking along the interstate for several minutes, Johnathan finally answered. “Hell, there can’t be but a hundred and they are spread out in small groups. I say, let’s go down and just cross. Even if some see us, they will never keep up once we start back up into the mountains.”

  Not liking it but seeing no alternatives, the others nodded as Johnathan headed down the slope. The horse had no problems and Johnathan looked over at Dan and saw his hackles raised. “Dan, easy,” Johnathan commanded softly and Dan looked up, then back down at the interstate.

  Reaching the valley floor, Johnathan guided his horse to a dirt road and gave it a light kick to get the horse in a fast walk. Looking ahead, he saw where the road passed under the interstate and the closest stinkers he could see were half a mile away. Just before passing under the interstate, Johnathan knew the stinkers had seen them as they all broke into a trot. Over the soft clatter of hooves on the dirt road, they heard the moans of the stinkers that had spotted them.

  Mumbling many words, Johnathan led his horse under the interstate, glancing down at Dan and saw the dog just trotting along. Coming out the other side, Johnathan guided his horse to follow the road that led up into the mountains as he glanced back.

  “Yeah, they spotted us and are coming,” Sandy groaned behind him.

  “They suck going uphill,” Johnathan reminded her, letting his horse settle into a natural walk. Glancing back as the road wound up the mountain Johnathan sighed, seeing the stinkers fall far behind before he finally lost sight of them.

  Hearing dogs to the west, Johnathan glanced back and saw the interstate in the distance, but couldn’t see anything. He knew stinkers were still on the road, but he was just too far away to see them in the dark.

  Coming around a bend, Johnathan heard Dan growl and glanced over to see Dan looking down in the small ravine that the bend passed. Guiding his horse to the other side of the road, Johnathan saw a lone house sitting in the ravine and it was surrounded by stinkers.

  “How in the hell did those stinkers find them out here?” Sandy asked beside him.

  “My guess, followed them,” Johnathan offered with a shrug, estimating fifty stinkers just at the front of the house.

  Looking down at the house over a hundred yards away, Sandy tried to see what Johnathan was talking about. Seeing Sandy study the house as she rode over and stopped beside him, Johnathan leaned over. “That truck in the front yard is loaded with stuff in the bed. I think they left to get supplies and led a group back. That’s the only way I see a group that size showing up,” he said and Sandy nodded.

  “Seems like a good spot otherwise,” Sandy mumbled.

  A light come on in an upstairs window and they saw a figure looking out at them. When the light came on, the stinkers started going crazy. Pulling his horse to a stop, Johnathan glanced at the others. “Want to help them?” he asked and everyone looked at him like he had lost his mind.

  “Johnathan, we may have over a hundred arrows, but we can’t shoot that many, that fast,” Bill cried out.

  “No, we can get them to follow us,” Johnathan explained. “A mile from here the road turns south, but we follow the ridge up and east, leaving the road.”

  Looking down at the house, the others looked to each other and then to Johnathan and nodded. Standing up in his stirrups, Johnathan took a deep breath, “Hey, stinkers!” he shouted and the growls and pounding on the house by the stinkers stopped as they all turned.

  As one, the mass growled and shambled away from the house toward them.

  Seeing many more pouring from around back, “Okay, it worked, let’s go,” Bill said, quickly kicking his horse.

  The figure in the window waved at them as the mass of stinkers left the house. The group of stinkers had to take the driveway because the slope where they were overlooking the house was a cliff. Waving back, Johnathan kicked his horse to move back to the lead. "I swear, if this comes back to bite us, I’m going to be pissed,” Johnathan said, reaching the front.

  “No, baby. There was a little kid beside whoever was at the window,” Sandy said behind him. “We did some good.”

  Riding up the mountain, Bill looked back and saw the stinkers following far behind. As the road turned south a mile later, they headed off the road and up the ridge toward the crest. Moving past the crest, they stopped to let the horses rest and looked back to see the group of stinkers half a mile away and a thousand feet below them, following the road leading to the snowcapped peaks.

  “Hope they fucking freeze solid and die,” Bill snarled, holding a bucket to let his horse drink.

  “Freezing won’t kill them,” Johnathan reported, watering his pack horse. “Heat does more damage than cold, from the groups I heard talking, and it’s sound reasoning.”

  “Why the hell aren’t they rotting?” Bill asked, moving to his pack horse.

  Looking over at Bill, Johnathan was about to speak but then stopped and thought for a second. “The silicon life form is actually preserving the body. I heard a few, and have a few theories on how, but until I get back and do research, I can’t say,” Johnathan shrugged.

  “That’s dirty shit, bringing about zombies,” Bill mumbled, handing the bucket to Mary so she could water her horses.

  Nodding, “Yep, used to laugh at those movies and the games the boys played,” Johnathan admitted. “It never crossed my mind to actually ‘think’ about it.”

  Slinging her AR on her shoulder, Sandy walked over and punched Johnathan in the arm rather hard. “That’s not helping us now,” she snapped as Johnathan rubbed his arm. “When we get to the cabin, you two can dissect this event down. Until then, think about getting to the cabin.”

  “Point taken,” Bill nodded, seeing Mary looking at him with narrowed eyes.

  Sandy put the bucket she and Johnathan had used back on her pack horse as Johnathan walked over. “Sorry, we got sidetracked,” Johnathan confessed, kissing her cheek. “Ready?”

  Making sure everything on her pack horse was secured, Sandy turned to Johnathan. “Baby, I’m sorry, but when your mind gets trapped
on a thought, you can walk off a cliff. I need your mind here and now,” she told him with a slight tremble in her voice.

  “Thank you, because you’re right,” Johnathan said, turning around and climbing up on his horse. Checking the reins to his pack horse that were tied on the saddle horn, Johnathan looked around and saw everyone on their horse.

  Clicking his tongue softly, Johnathan gave his horse a soft kick. “Ride with me, Sandy,” Johnathan said, passing her. Guiding her horse along the ridge, Sandy moved up beside Johnathan. “Tell me the route you’d take to the cabin?” Johnathan instructed, glancing around.

  Giving a long groan, Sandy started reciting what Johnathan and Bill had taught them on the ocean ride over. The route didn’t follow any roads, but paralleled some and ended at the field below the cabin. After twenty minutes, Sandy looked over at Johnathan who was nodding.

  “Under no circumstances, are you to head up to the cabin until the boys come for you. I can guarantee you, they have more stuff around that cabin than Doug had planned,” Johnathan said confidently.

  “You’ll be there, so why do Mary and I have to recite that route?” Sandy asked.

  Glancing over, “Same reason you got my head out of my ass, I might not make it,” Johnathan answered and Sandy felt her body go numb. “Hell, Bill and I could have to send you and Mary on while we lead off bandits. I can think of a hundred scenarios of you and Mary moving on besides Bill and me dying.”

  “Well, let’s do our best not to let any of them happen,” Sandy pleaded with a dry mouth. “So, when we get there, are you and Bill going to lead us up?”

  “What part did you not understand?” Johnathan asked, glancing over at her with grin. “I’m willing to lay money that not even Doug would’ve gone up there, even if the boys had only had a few days to prep. Now, we’re talking about months. Only someone who doesn’t know them would try.”

  Sandy chuckled silently for a second, then looked over at him. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” she said, nodding. “And it worked.”