Jack nodded, unsure what to say. He followed her down the hall into the activity room where a number of residents lounged, playing card games, knitting, and chatting with each other. An elderly gentleman wearing a USMC veteran's cap sprung to his feet when he saw Jack, his wide grin full of white teeth.
"Jack? We heard what you did for Wyatt, bringing him back to his mother. She told us right up until the end that she knew her son was safe and on his way to get her, she never doubted him for a minute. Many of us here have family living all over the country, and you've given us hope that we might see them again," he said. "We put together some food for you to take with you. It's not much, but it should get you to where you're going."
He started to protest, he didn't want to take food out of the mouths of these elderly people, they had enough problems on their hands, but the retired marine wouldn't take no for an answer.
"Now we're not going to let you say no. You take this with you, and get yourself home to your family. May God grant you a safe journey home," he said, pushing the large sack into Jack's hands.
"Thank you, thank you for this. I'm coming back her with my family, and you can meet them in person," Jack said. He waved to the group and headed out of the retirement home.
Wyatt waited for him outside of the building, puffing away at a cigarette as he checked the gears and cables on the mountain bike, ensuring it was ready to ride. The bike looked strange to him without the trailer attached.
"I removed the trailer, you've hauled enough dead weight for one lifetime. If you meet any one legged truckers hitchhiking, just tell 'em you're all full up on freeloaders," Wyatt said.
Jack laughed, and set the sack of food down. He took Wyatt by the shoulder, gripping him tight. "Wyatt, I want to tell you that the last couple of months have changed me. If I hadn't met you, I never would have eaten dog food or fire roasted squirrel," he said, smirking.
Wyatt chuckled, hands stuffed in his pockets, puffing at his cigarette.
"I also know I never would have made it here without you to guide me along the way. I'd be dead in a ditch next to the highway somewhere, several times over by now. I've learned more from you than all of the books I've ever read in school. You've taught me more than anyone else in my life. We've been through a lot together. Wyatt, I've never been so honored to call someone my friend and brother" said Jack.
Wyatt gritted his teeth, chewing on his cigarette, embarrassed by the praise. He stuck his hand out, shoving it into Jack's and shaking his hand firmly. "Well, for a fellar that can't count past eight using the fingers on both hands, you're a pretty smart guy Jack. You go find your family. And about the farm, I mean it Jack. It's a big homestead, and it would be awful lonely for one man by himself. A place like that needs a family to bring it to life."
Jack nodded in agreement. "I'll come back Wyatt. Nothing matters to me more than my family, and you're my family now too. I'll get my wife and kids and then we'll all go together. If Baltimore is like everywhere else, there won't be anything left to stay for. I left them a good supply of food and water, so I know they didn't go hungry. I did that right at least. I hope... no, I know there are all right. I can feel it."
Wyatt walked the bike over to Jack and picked up the black backpack resting by his feet. "I trimmed this down to the bare minimum of gear you'll need to lighten the load and help you move fast. Spare inner tubes, a few snare wires just in case, all the stuff you'll need to get home. Take care of yourself Jack."
Jack opened the backpack and put the sack of food from the nursing home residents. He pulled sat on the bike and tightened the straps on the backpack until they were snug. "You'll be alright here?"
"Yes, I'll be fine. I might see if I can make squirrels an endangered species around here. Put some fresh meat on the table for these folks. Go on now, git. Get home Jack. I'll see you soon," Wyatt said.
Jack gripped the handlebars and started down the road, the bike a natural extension of his body. He anticipated every bump in the road, was prepared for every turn. He pumped the pedals, the bike surging forward now that the trailer was detached. His family was two hundred and eighty miles away now. Three months ago he would have laughed and said it was impossible for him to do. Now it was one more short leg of a long journey, and then he would be home.
Chapter 30
Amy vigorously scrubbed her white shirt in the pail of water, trying to wash the bloodstains out. The water was tinged red from her efforts, but the shirt was a total loss. Her favorite shirt, but well worth the loss. After the beating she gave Rob she hoped he would get the message and stay away. In her heart she knew that wasn't going to happen. There was something wrong with him. His infatuation with her would eventually lead him back here.
It would be his blood that was spilled, not hers or the boy's. She had surprised herself. Who knew she could react with such violence? There hadn't been time to second guess herself, and she acted instinctively. What was surprising wasn't the lack of guilt, but how good it had felt. Vengeance. Retribution. He deserved every bit of pain he was in right now.
Amy wrung the shirt out and tossed it into the burn barrel. The bloodstains were permanent, and the shirt was a loss. No more going outside the house alone, this time, Kenny would watch her back from the house, a second set of eyes watching the yard, through the scope of a rifle. Rob wouldn't catch her off guard again.
"Mom, check it out," Kenny said.
Kenny reached up and put the aluminum Louisville slugger atop the mantle. He printed something in magic marker on the body of the bat. The bold calligraphy read "The Dentist". A leather loop tied around the base of the bat had small white stones affixed to the leather strap.
Kenny grinned broadly, "I read in history class that in the middle ages, knights named great swords after a battle,"
Danny wrinkled his face up as he read the inscription, "Yuck, that's gross Kenny,"
"What is that hanging off the end of the bat?"
"It's a war trophy. Lots of primitive cultures kept trophies from battles. I learned that in history class too."
She walked over to the mantle and picked up the bat, inspecting the leather strap he'd added. What were those, white beads? No, no they weren't. "Kenny, please tell me those aren't what I think they are." she said.
"Uh, OK mom, they're not his teeth," he said, unconvincingly.
She hugged him tight, laughing. "Kenny, I mean this in the nicest possible way, you are one weird kid."
"Guys, I'm sorry you had to see me do that. That man, Rob Moore, is a really bad person. You remember us telling you to stay away from the Moore house? He is one of their sons, he lived across the street before of this all happened. He harassed me several times, and then broke into our house one night. Mr. Dan stopped him from hurting me that night. The police arrested Rob, and put him in jail. We didn't tell you because we didn't want to alarm you. We never thought for a minute he would come back again. Somehow though, he got out of jail. After what I did to him, he will almost certainly be back, and this time he will be out for blood."
Amy reached out and took each of the boy's hands in her own. They were so young, they shouldn't have to think about things like this, but there was no more avoiding it. The world was too dangerous and she had to accept it. She needed them, especially Danny, to face reality. They needed to hunker down and fortify the house. Danny had to give up on finding his father, or she would likely find him dead at Rob's hands if he snuck out again. She had to convince him.
"We need to talk about what we are going to do. We don't have many options. We can stay here or we can go somewhere else. If we stay here, we have food, water, shelter, medicine, and most importantly your father will know where to find us when he comes home. But staying here also means Rob knows where we are. We'll have to defend ourselves, because he will come for us.
If we leave, we'll have to leave everything behind. We won't be able to carry all of the food and supplies, and there is no guarantee we'll be able to find a safer place than this house. We'll have to sc
avenge for food, water, and find shelter. If we did go, we would have no way to let your father know where we went without also alerting Rob. That means there would be little chance of us ever seeing him again.
This is an important decision that affects us all, and I want you both to tell me how you feel. If we go, we don't come back, ever. If we stay, that means no more running away looking for your father. It is simply too dangerous," she said, turning her gaze to Danny.
"I'm sorry mom! I want to stay and wait for dad. I won't leave the house again," Danny said.
Kenny looked down at the table, frowning.
"What is it Kenny?"
"I was just thinking about dad. I miss him, and I wish he was here," he said.
Amy squeezed his hand tight. "I know honey. I miss him too. If we stay here, he will come home. I believe that."
"I don't want to leave. I want dad to come home. I promise," Danny said.
"You're right mom. Where would we go? Dad gave us everything we need to stay here, it would be stupid to leave it all behind. I'm not leaving without dad. We should stay and fight," Kenny said.
On the verge of tears, she held their hands tightly. The last thing she wanted to do was leave the house, even with Rob just across the street. She needed to hear it from them. Danny had to accept their situation.
"It's settled then. We'll stay here and wait for your father. Kenny, go get a few hours of sleep, I'll wake you up in a bit. You and I will take turns on watch tonight. From now on we won't let Rob, or anybody else, catch us off guard again. Danny, go get some sleep. Tomorrow morning we are going to do everything in our power to make this home a castle," she said.
Chapter 31
Baltimore. Home. Jack stood on the remains of the Francis Scott Key Bridge, overlooking the ruined segment of Interstate 695 that passed over the Patapsco River. At least it used to cross over the river. The wrecked hulk of a liquid natural gas carrier ship lay on the shore beneath him, hull and tanks exposed, completely obliterated by an apparent explosion.
The bridge was gone too, for the most part, except for a small section jutting out over the water on either side of the river. If he had to guess, the huge LNG carrier lost power during the EMP and drifted into the support pilings of the bridge, rupturing one of the tanks. Natural gas wasn't explosive in its liquid form, but once it escaped containment and became gaseous it mixed with oxygen in the air, a highly explosive mixture. One spark was all it would take to set the ship's leaking contents off like an atom bomb, and blow the bridge sky high.
That put a real dent in his plan. Less than ten miles away from his home, but he might as well be on the moon without the use of the bridge. He turned around and coasted back down the Interstate, weaving his bike in between stalled cars.
He had two other options to directly cross to the other side of the river, but they weren't really options at all. Two tunnels passed underneath the river, Highway 95 and 895 both descending to 100 feet. Finding a clear passage through a mile and a half of dead cars in the dark tunnels when he didn't even have a flashlight was a fool’s errand.
The only path forward was to go around the river on the surface roads, traveling in a semi-circle around Baltimore. That was a problem, because Baltimore's roughest neighborhoods lay in a ring tightly encircling the city. Skirting downtown would take him through all of the worst boroughs. The heart of the city would be no cakewalk either.
Before the EMP it wasn't an issue, safe in his car with the doors locked, and law enforcement policing the streets. Who knew what waited downtown? He and Wyatt managed to skirt every major city on the journey here. Now there was no other option. He had to travel through the city.
There were a only few hours of light left before dark, and he wasn't about to camp overnight this close to home. The thought of being a few miles away from his wife and children was maddening. Wyatt's near miss with his mother lay heavy on his mind. Could he forgive himself if he came home a day too late, and found Amy and the boys missing or dead? Not an option. He pushed on, pedaling hard.
Thirty minutes later and he was in the outskirts of the city. He couldn't belief what the city looked like. Not just the damage done by the EMP, but what happened since. Burned out homes, trash mounded up into piles taller than a man. That was if people had bothered to move the trash all. Some homes had piles of rotten stinking garbage just outside the front door. Were they ignorant of disease, or simply too lazy to care?
A shiver ran up his spine as he passed three bodies wrapped in white bed sheets, abandoned by the roadside. The smell was sickening, and he held his breath until he was well past.
"Hey you! Here, come here," a voice called out urgently.
A heavyset policeman leaned out of his front door, hand on his gun, and waved at Jack to get his attention.
He looked around, wary of an ambush. Was this guy really a cop, or did he just have on the uniform? He didn't trust anyone after being robbed by the horseman. Jack slowed his bike and kept his distance.
"Hey! What are you doing out here? Are you crazy? Nobody goes out alone out here. Get inside before you get yourself killed!" The policeman glanced up and down the street nervously, his hand on the hilt of his pistol.
Jack stayed on the bike, in case he needed to move fast. "Why is that?"
The policeman looked at him as if he had two heads. "Where have you been? There is no government anymore. It's every man for himself. I'm only sticking my neck out because I'm an idiot with a soft spot for other idiots. My neighbors all left weeks ago. I should have left when everybody else did." The cop brought his sleeve across his forehead, wiping away the sweat. "Listen, you'd better get inside somewhere fast. Believe me, you don't want to go that way. Downtown isn't safe anymore."
"Was there an outbreak or something?" asked Jack.
"If only it were that simple. Gangs run the city now. When food got tight, the city council voted to release all the non-violent prisoners, hoping they would go somewhere else and be somebody else's problem. Morons. Those non-violent prisoners came back and broke out their gang members, the violent prisoners. They took over the city. Look, don't be stupid. Stay out of the city if you want to live."
The policeman abruptly shut the door, a deadbolt and chains rattled as he locked himself in.
There wasn't enough food left to go around the long way. There wouldn't be anything to forage here either. He had to go through the city. Jack unwrapped his last biscuit and can of tuna, wolfing them down. If he died in the city, it wouldn't be from starvation.
After he ate, he mounted his bike, pushing himself to the limit. Buildings flew by as he sped down the road. The miles went quickly, and he passed the M&T Bank Stadium.
Two men stepped onto the road from a side street. One wore a hooded sweatshirt and baggy jeans. The second man, much taller than the first, stuck out like a sore thumb. He wore a bright red mohawk, black concert t-shirt and combat boots, a sinister sneer on his face. Both of the men wore blue bandanas over their faces like masks. The taller one nudged the other and pointed at Jack.
"Yo, stop," the shorter thug yelled.
Jack crossed to the far side of the street and mounted the curb, riding along the sidewalk to get clear of them. He didn't slow a beat, turning to look over his shoulder after he passed them.
"Stop! We see you again we're gonna kill you," the taller one yelled.
He heard their feet pounding the pavement as they ran after him, shouting for him to stop.
Jack hit his brakes and gripped the handlebars, sending the bike into a skidding U turn, heading down an alley in an attempt to lose them. He weaved his way in and out of streets and alleys, gaining distance on the men as they were forced to stop at each intersection and see which way he went. Jack kept going until his muscles burned from the effort, and soon their shouts grew distant.
He coasted for a few minutes after he was sure he'd lost them, catching his breath. When his heartbeat slowed, he made a beeline towards the Inner Harbor. Oriole Park at Camden Yard
s barely registered on his radar as he flew past, a place he'd taken the boys numerous times.
Fully engrossed on his surroundings, he rode as fast as he could, planning his route through the city. It would be safer if he stuck to the harbor. It was mostly tourist attractions, not many stores that would attract the attention of thugs like the ones that had chased him. It should be a ghost town.
After passing the National Aquarium, he turned down a side street. Buildings and alleyways became a blur as he flew past. Nearly out of the downtown area, the anticipation of arriving home was overwhelming, every cell in his body supercharged with excitement. Finally, he was almost home to his family.
A painted advertisement on the side of a building caught his eye, pulling him out of his single-minded drive to get home. Decorative folk art depicting flowers and vegetables surrounded the company name.
"Maynard's Seed Company, est. 1932"
EMP Aftermath Series (Book 1): The Journey Home Page 18