“I broke the damn flash with my knife,” Sandy popped off. “And yes, the screen is turned off, too.”
“I know, baby. I’m just poking fun at ya,” Johnathan joked, steering his horse along the road. The path fed into a real dirt road that led into a wide draw, leading them to a higher ridge.
Looking back west as they reached the top ridgeline, Johnathan could see the twinkling fires of Fort Garland. “How far away is the town?” Sandy asked, moving up beside him.
“Ten, fifteen miles,” Johnathan answered.
“Seems weird,” Sandy sighed, looking around.
“Sweetheart, we are over eleven thousand feet and that town is at eight thousand. That’s over half a mile,” Johnathan explained, letting the horses graze.
“Let’s go,” Sandy said softly, guiding her horse past Johnathan.
“This is soft grass, I was letting the horses graze,” Johnathan told her.
“We can stop somewhere else,” Sandy said, continuing over the ridge.
“What’s wrong?” Johnathan asked.
Pulling her reins and stopping her horse, Sandy turned around. “Look to the south and let’s go,” she pleaded and then turned around in her saddle, kicking the horse.
Spinning around, Johnathan looked to the south and way into the distance. He saw bright lights strung out in a line. “Yeah, we can stop somewhere else to graze,” Johnathan said, giving his horse a soft kick.
Guiding his horse past Sandy, Johnathan looked over. “It was the right decision,” he said, looking ahead. “The one that helps us get home.”
Taking her cap off and brushing her hair back, Sandy put the cap back on backwards. “How much time is this route going to take from us?” Sandy asked.
“In all reality, this route will probably save us time,” Johnathan answered. “We were heading south back there to stay on flatter terrain. And we would’ve dipped into New Mexico, then angled up across Texas and the Oklahoma panhandle. This way, we will be on the southern border of Colorado and just head east.”
Reaching down and patting her horse on the neck, “Yeah, the horses don’t like going up and down the mountains,” Sandy grinned. “If we were still on bikes, where do you think we would be?”
“Don’t have to think. We would just be getting into Utah or five hundred miles back,” Johnathan answered. “Sandy, we would’ve had to stop much more than we were stopping. Not taking days off and meaning few rest breaks during the day. On those bikes, it would’ve taken us nine months to go cross country and dirt roads.”
“Cross country, my ass. We pushed our bikes cross country, if there wasn’t a trail,” Sandy scoffed.
“My point exactly,” Johnathan said, looking around as he steered his horse off the road when it turned north and followed the ridge east.
When they reached another dirt road, Johnathan stopped and climbed off his horse. “Thank you, I need to pee,” Mary said.
“Go ahead, I need to check the map,” Johnathan said, moving to Sandy’s horse and digging in the plastic bag the topo books were kept in. Before Johnathan had the bag out, Mary was already behind a tree.
“This road leads east almost to I25,” Sandy told him as Johnathan opened the book and held it out, angling it to catch all the starlight without his body casting a shadow over it.
“Yeah, but that’s a house over there on that ridge across from us and this road leads past it,” Johnathan replied and Sandy spun to look north and saw a white area on the ridge half a mile away across a deep draw. Slowly, she began to pick out the black shadow of a structure.
“I see it,” she said as the structure came into focus. “It looks empty.”
“We aren’t stopping to check,” Johnathan stressed, running his finger along several roads.
Looking down at Johnathan, “Honey, what’s wrong?” Sandy asked.
“Breathe through your nose,” Johnathan said, not looking away from the map.
“I hate it when you say that,” Sandy mumbled and then breathed deeply through her nose. “Damn, these evergreens smell so good,” she smiled and then breathed in again. “Johnathan, I smell Douglas Fir.”
“Smoke, Sandy. I smell smoke from a fire,” Johnathan said as Sandy breathed again, this time detecting something. Turning her head side to side as she breathed, Sandy finally got a good whiff.
“You caught that smell that fast?” Sandy asked in amazement.
Closing the book with a snarl, “Yes, sweetheart, and you need to pay attention to all your senses. That fire isn’t that far off,” Johnathan explained as Bill and Mary led their horses over.
“Smell the fire?” Bill asked and Sandy scoffed, throwing up her hands.
Turning away from Sandy with a grin, Johnathan looked at Bill and nodded. “Yeah, every road down leads past several houses. These houses are in the backwoods, so I can guarantee you some are occupied,” Johnathan said.
“Cross country?” Bill asked.
“It would take us two days to reach the interstate if we avoided all the roads that led past houses,” Johnathan answered. “Give me a ten-yard lead and you hang at the back.”
Adjusting his backpack off his tactical sling, Bill checked his AR. “If we get in the shit?” Bill asked.
Thinking for a minute, “Pull back to the top of the ridge and we will follow it south,” Johnathan said, seeing Sandy and Mary check their rifles.
Climbing back on his horse, Johnathan steered down the road as the road followed the ridges down the mountain sides. Passing the house he’d spotted earlier, Johnathan kept his hand on his rifle but kept the barrel low, just in case someone was there. Glancing down at Dan, Johnathan sighed, seeing Dan just looking around with his tongue hanging out.
Rounding a bend in the road, Johnathan cursed under his breath and pulled his horse to a stop, seeing something glowing for just a second.
“Yes, I see you, too,” a voice called out.
Chapter Twenty
May 31
“Easy, Dan,” Johnathan commanded, seeing Dan was standing rigid and looking ahead at a cabin sitting on a spur around the bend. Looking at a cluster of trees at the end of the drive leading to the cabin, Johnathan raised his left hand up. “We aren’t here to cause trouble,” Johnathan said, staring at the trees.
“Figured as much. You done passed by three houses and didn’t touch them,” the voice called back. “If you don’t mind, ride up a little more so we aren’t talking so loud. Haven’t had many infected up here, but they show up at the damnedest places and times.”
Glancing back, Johnathan saw the others had stopped behind the bend. “Hold up and tell Scotty not to get nervous,” Johnathan said and then kicked his horse, moving the twenty yards to the trees where the voice had come from. Stopping twenty feet away, Johnathan saw a figure sitting in a chair next to the biggest tree with an AR across his lap.
“Name’s Johnathan and we are just trying to get home,” he said and then glanced down at Dan looking at the figure, but not growling. “Dan, sit,” Johnathan commanded and Dan looked up at him as he sat down.
“If you don’t mind me askin’, where you headed?” the voice said as Johnathan analyzed it.
The voice sounded older and worn, but still spry. “Tennessee,” Johnathan answered.
The figure stood up, setting his AR down. “Son, that’s a long ways to be heading just to get home,” the figure warned. “Name’s Ruben and you would do better finding a place to hold up. Word back east is bad.”
Seeing Ruben put his weapon down, Johnathan let his go. “Ruben, our kids are there and come hell or high water, we are getting home,” Johnathan replied.
“Johnathan, there are reports on the radio of groups of tens of thousands of infected roaming east of the Mississippi,” Ruben said, pulling something out of his pocket and opening it. The smell of tobacco filled Johnathan’s nose as Ruben filled his bottom lip.
“We’ve faced stinkers from California to here,” Johnathan said, keeping his face toward Ruben but
cut his eyes to look around.
“Stinkers,” Ruben scoffed, putting the can back in his pocket. “Best damn name I’ve heard for infected yet.”
Laughing, “Yeah, our son named them. That’s the last time we talked to him,” Johnathan explained, noticing movement on the porch of the cabin.
“Johnathan, in April, there was a man who made it to Cuchara down in the valley from Georgia on a motorcycle and he said he barely made it then,” Ruben said, taking off his hat and stepping out from the shadow of the tree and Johnathan saw Ruben looked well into his sixties.
“Ruben, if you have a radio, you need to let folks know Fort Garland is under attack,” Johnathan said, and noticed Ruben looking behind him. “My wife and friends.”
“Scott?” Ruben asked.
Shaking his head, “No, Scott and Ronny set up on the ridge to cover in an overwatch,” Johnathan lied.
“Military man, and smart,” Ruben said, spitting in the dirt. “You said you come from California?”
“That’s where we landed. We were in Hawaii,” Johnathan answered nonchalantly and Ruben stumbled back.
“Hawaii! And you’ve made it this far?” Ruben cried out louder than he’d meant to.
“Shh,” Johnathan hissed. “Stinkers love the human voice.”
Staring at Johnathan for several minutes, Ruben nodded. “Yes sir, they do,” Ruben said. “Did you go through Utah? Is it bad there?”
“We passed south of Richfield and it was burning to the ground. The only people we saw were bandits in Nevada, hitting a group parked in the desert,” Johnathan answered and saw Ruben’s shoulders slump.
“Damn, wife’s family is from near Salt Lake,” Ruben said and then looked up. “So, you seen this group attack Fort Garland?”
“A few days ago they passed us, but we saw an ultra-light plane that the group had on a semi-trailer circle the town before sunset. Before we crossed over the mountains, we saw lights coming in from the south,” Johnathan said.
Ruben studied Johnathan’s face for several seconds, “Yeah,” he finally said. “They called out on the radio two hours ago, they were being attacked and getting hit hard.”
“They’re still fighting?” Johnathan blurted out.
“Was fifteen minutes ago before I come out when my boy spotted you four,” Ruben said.
Shaking his head in disbelief, “Damn,” Johnathan sighed. “Ruben, this group is big and people need to know they scout using those planes. One is black and red with lightning bolts on the side and the other one is yellow. They are real ultra-lights, not a cart with a hang glider wing.”
“Johnathan, that’s not the only group running the roads and causing trouble. Cuchara has been hit twice by gangs on motorcycles,” Ruben said.
“Ruben, this group has over a hundred large vehicles,” Johnathan shot back and Ruben jumped back. “Everything from semi-trucks, SUVs, buses, tow trucks, and military HUMVEEs. On one flatbed trailer they had thirty ATVs, so they can move off the big roads.”
Turning and spitting, Ruben wiped his beard. “Have to say, I ain’t heard of one that big,” Ruben mumbled.
“When people see the ultra-lights, they need to shoot them down,” Johnathan almost pleaded.
Spitting again, Ruben stared at Johnathan for several seconds, “I’ll get the word out,” he finally said.
Giving a sigh of relief, “Thank you,” Johnathan said.
“Johnathan, you don’t be going south. You stay away from Trinidad. There is nothing but cutthroats down there now. You just keep heading east. I heard a week ago from a man in Kansas, that small gangs are roaming outside of Wichita,” Ruben told him.
“Thanks, we avoid cities. Stinkers like them too much,” Johnathan assured him.
Slapping his thigh, “Damn, Hawaii,” Ruben gasped, shaking his head and then looked up at Johnathan. “I’m calling my son out, so he can get the word out about this gang and get on the CB and tell the others down the mountain to let you pass.”
“That would be great and much appreciated,” Johnathan said and Ruben turned, waving at the house. A man ran out carrying an AK and stopped beside Ruben.
“Teddy, get word out about a gang using little airplanes to scout and attack what they find,” Ruben said. “And let everyone down the mountain know to let four on horses pass, then two more will follow them down.”
“Yes, sir,” Teddy said and ran back to the house.
“How many you figure in that bunch?” Ruben asked.
“Honestly I don’t know, but every vehicle we saw was packed, including buses. I was putting the number between six hundred to a thousand,” Johnathan confessed and Ruben’s mouth fell open. “They had trailers that they had converted to cages and they were holding several hundred prisoners.”
“Lord almighty!” Ruben gasped.
“Can I wave my group up, so Scott doesn’t get nervous? He’s young and dumb,” Johnathan sighed.
Spitting, Ruben looked up at Johnathan with a grin. “You just described two of my four boys,” Ruben chuckled.
Turning around, Johnathan waved the others up. “Any word on any place getting a handle on the stinkers?” Johnathan asked as the others moved up.
“Nope, just small groups making a stand. Transmissions back east are getting fewer each week. Most of the relays are on solar, so people are just disappearing,” Ruben answered as the others stopped beside Johnathan.
Introducing everyone, Johnathan turned to Ruben as Bill interrupted. “Johnathan, Ronny punched Scott because Scott’s getting antsy,” Bill embellished the lie, shaking his head.
“Tell Scott if he gets antsy I’ll shoot his ass, and he won’t have to worry about crossing the plains,” Johnathan said and Bill grabbed his shirt like he was using a radio, repeating what Johnathan had said.
“The young worry the old something fierce,” Ruben chuckled. “Johnathan, we ain’t had no reports of stinkers…” Ruben stopped, laughing as he said the name. “Man, that’s a good word for them.”
“Our son named them,” Sandy said proudly.
“Well, when you see him, let him know I’m going to use it,” Ruben said and then turned to Johnathan. “No stinkers have been reported tonight on this side of the mountain. You’ll be clear till you reach Hwy 12. When you cross it, you get your guard up.”
“Thank you, Ruben,” Johnathan said, holding his hand out. Ruben moved over and shook his hand.
“Thank you for the warning,” Ruben said.
Turning to Sandy, “Sandy, do you have that list of the vehicles from the convoy of death?” Johnathan asked and Sandy nodded, leaning to the side and pulling out the notepad from her back pocket. Flipping it open, Sandy tore out several pages and handed them to Johnathan.
“Here’s what we saw and my wife wrote down,” Johnathan said, holding out the pages and Ruben took them.
“Hang on a second,” Ruben said, stepping back to the chair and making Johnathan nervous, but Ruben put the pages in his pocket as he opened up an ice chest. Grabbing something, he tossed two back and walked back to Johnathan holding out four Cokes in bottles. “Here, you’ve earned them. Hawaii, damn,” Ruben chuckled.
Taking the bottles, Johnathan felt they were cold through his gloves. “Cold Coke,” he cried out.
“Coke ain’t no good hot,” Ruben chuckled as Johnathan held the bottles. “You be careful and let Scott and Ronny know not to shoot folks on the way down because they will shoot back.”
“We will,” Johnathan said as Bill talked into his shirt again. “You stay safe.”
“You do the same and I hope you make it to your kids,” Ruben said as Johnathan kicked his horse.
Making sure the others were behind him as he steered the horse down the road, Johnathan pulled off a bottle and slowed to the side, passing the rest off to Sandy. When she took them, Johnathan moved ahead and opened his Coke. Savoring the cold liquid, Johnathan glanced back and saw Bill at the back, turning up a bottle.
Kicking his horse into a canter, John
athan steered down the mountain. They passed several more houses and saw a group standing outside of one. The group waved and Johnathan waved back. They covered the six miles to the valley floor fast and Johnathan pulled back to slow his horse down, seeing Hwy 12 ahead.
When they crossed the highway, Sandy moved up beside Johnathan. “Scott and Ronny?” she asked.
“Bill, Doug, and my imaginary friends,” Johnathan chuckled. “When we need to leave or need a name to blame something on, that’s who we always use. We used them, saying they were back at camp or they were expecting a call from us but mostly, we used them to leave boring parties. Bill knew we needed an overwatch, so that’s why I said for Scott to relax. Scott is always the dumb one. But no matter what, we always use Scott and Ronny. Doug came up with it and even built a background that we use. At first, Ruben didn’t believe me about Scott and Ronny, but when Bill called out about Scott and I hadn’t talked to Bill, Ruben believed it.”
Stuffing her empty bottle in her saddle bag, “I see where the boys get the intrigue,” Sandy chuckled. “I’m glad we got to warn someone.”
“Me too, and I can’t believe that Fort Garland is still fighting them off,” Johnathan confided.
“You think Ruben was a threat and that’s why you used Scott and Ronny?” Sandy asked.
“I don’t think he was but the way he was acting, people further down the mountain could’ve been threats,” Johnathan admitted. “Sandy, I used Scott and Ronny to make Ruben think snipers were watching over us and they were young and edgy which is very dangerous. Ruben wanted Scott gone, therefore he wanted us gone.”
“How did you spot him?”
Glancing over, “His watch had a glowing dial,” Johnathan answered. Glancing to the south, Johnathan saw a towering lone peak. “Glad we have to go around that.”
Hearing Dan give a soft growl, Johnathan pulled up his bow and grabbed an arrow from the quiver hanging off his saddle horn. Sandy pulled behind him, yanking her .22 pistol out. Sniffing the air, Johnathan couldn’t smell a stinker. With what passed for rolling hills out west, but small mountains to the rest of the country, and sparse trees around Johnathan couldn’t see anything.
Forsaken World (Book 3): Rite of Passage Page 27