Lionhearts (Denver Burning Book 5)

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Lionhearts (Denver Burning Book 5) Page 20

by Algor X. Dennison


  Now Estela’s entire group, including the orphaned children, Jorge, Jeremy, and the rest, had beds and roofs over their heads. There was a long way to go before they would be food-secure and have a permanent place in the community, but their lot was drastically improved from the danger and fear in the city.

  Alma hesitated, watching Mike try on a pair of old ski gloves. “You know… you could stay here,” she said. “You could wait until Spring to head north. I could find a house for you, and we sure could use you around here.”

  “Are you kidding?” Liam replied. “We’ve got a ranch to get back to. We’ve got Tara with us now, and we’re not staying away from home a minute longer than we need to.”

  Alma’s eyes sparkled a little as she studied Mike’s face. “What about you, Michael? Are you in a hurry to get home too, or could I talk you into staying on?”

  Mike smiled and took off the gloves. “That almost sounds tempting, Alma. If it were just me I might take you up on it. But there’s a lot more at stake than my personal whims—my mom’s taking care of the ranch all alone up north, and with winter coming on there is a lot of work to do.”

  Alma nodded. She and Mike stared at each other for a moment, and then Alma looked away. “Well, this is it, then. I’m leaving in a few minutes to head up a foraging expedition into the hills. I probably won’t be back until late this evening.”

  “Well, make sure you’re back before curfew this time,” Mike said with a chuckle. “We’ll be heading out soon ourselves, so I won’t be around to save you from the checkpoint guards again.”

  Alma blushed. Then she dropped the cardboard box, pushed herself up against Mike, and kissed him on the lips with a passion that surprised both him and his two siblings, who watched with interest from just a few feet away.

  Alma finally let go and backed away, her fingers lingering on his stubbly cheek. “Goodbye, Mike Leonhardt. If you’ve got a girlfriend up in Montana, I hope she takes good care of you.”

  Mike shook his head dazedly. “Haven’t got one.”

  “Well, you’ve got one down here in Boulder, then,” Alma said. “Remember that.”

  Then she walked away around the corner of the house and the Leonhardts were left alone again.

  “Wow. Wooooweee,” Liam said. Tara grinned wider than she had in weeks, and certainly since losing her roommate a few nights previously.

  Mike just stood in silence.

  “Why didn’t you invite her to come along to Montana?” Liam asked. “You blew your chance, man.”

  “No. I couldn’t. I like her—a lot. But she’s the vital connecting link here, she’s the only thing keeping these refugees going and tying them into the community. Without her they’d never make it through this winter.” He paused, considering. “But I’ll tell you what, Liam. This is certainly not the last time I will be seeing Boulder, Colorado.”

  Mike stood there for a while, staring off into the distance and rubbing his face where Alma had caressed it.

  An hour later, Walt finished making arrangements and counseling with Estela. He shouldered his own pack, which he had prepared early that morning, and together he and his three children left the house in Boulder with many well-wishes and waves from Estela and her people.

  They walked out of Boulder without much interaction from the locals. The borders were guarded but open in daylight, and the up-tight residents that manned the checkpoints were happier to see people go than come.

  At the end of the first day they camped in some trees well off the road they were following. Tara took off her shoes and dipped her feet in a small stream running by. “Oh, I think I’ve got ten different blisters forming,” she moaned. “Didn’t somebody mention you’d gotten a ride part of the way here in a car?”

  Walt wagged a finger at his daughter. “Those feet are going to have to toughen up fast, Tara. We have a ton of walking ahead of us. We probably won’t see any cars running at all, and our horses—assuming they’re still around—are all the way up in the Wind River Indian Reservation. That’s an awful lot of miles, and we’ll need to be smart about foraging and hunting along the way for extra calories. The stuff we’ve got in our packs will only last us part of the way there.”

  Tara rolled her eyes. “Camping and hiking, and hiking and camping. Are you sure you didn’t engineer this whole situation on purpose, dad? To teach me a lesson? I swear, it’s like your personal dream come true.”

  “That’s not even funny, Tara,” Walt replied. “But I certainly hope you’re learning the lessons well. Reality bites hard.”

  Tara frowned. “Hey, I think I did okay. I watched a lot of people make stupid mistakes and they paid for it. But I’m still here—thanks mostly to you guys, I know. I’m grateful. But also because I’m not as dumb and disconnected as you think.”

  Walt nodded. “I’ll grant you that. I always had a feeling you’d make it all right. You came very close several times, but you pulled through.”

  “We all did, didn’t we?” Liam chimed in. “Because we’re Leonhardts.”

  They hiked on the next day. The miles came and went easily, passing along flat highways with good walking conditions. They made good time and the distance didn’t wear on them as heavily as traveling through steep and treacherous terrain would have.

  Still, it was a matter of sheer distance. There was so much of it to cover that after first one, then two weeks of travel by foot, the spirits of the entire family were beginning to droop. Tara was especially daunted by the staggering immensity of the journey they were undertaking. The men were also worn thin, and fondly dreamed of traveling by automobile.

  It was the knowledge of what they’d been through already and the surety of their mission, now that they had Tara in tow, coupled with the memory of home waiting for them in Montana, that kept them going.

  Finally, after a third week on the roads of Wyoming, they reached the reservation. Scouts saw them coming a fair way off and picked them up on horseback to spare them the last few miles. James, Marlin, Chester and the others they had met welcomed the Leonhardts warmly and assured them that their horses had been well cared for and that there was more incentive than ever to get them home and get the beef coming in that Walt had promised.

  After staying with the Wind River tribes for a few days to resupply and rest, the Leonhardts loaded up their horses. Spook and Banjo were noticeably excited to see and smell their proper owners again. Tara broke down and cried when she saw them.

  “I’ll never wear perfume again,” she joked through her tears. “Just give me some good old horse sweat and maybe some hay to rub in my hair. It’s so comforting. Why did I ever leave the ranch, anyway?”

  “Actually, you really could use some perfume,” Liam joked. “No offense. I think we’re all smelling pretty rank these days. I hope Mom’s got some kind of shower rigged up at home. I don’t even care if it’s ice-cold, I’m going to sit in it for a solid hour.”

  The Indians loaned them two additional horses, the return of which Chester Creepingbear saw as an additional incentive to get Walt back down to the reservation soon with a little herd of cattle. After seeing the man come through on his plans to get his daughter from Denver, Chester had every confidence in Walt’s word and his ability to make it happen.

  The ride from Wind River to Yellowstone seemed much easier and quicker than on the way down. They were traveling in known country, they had Tara along, and riding was such a welcome experience after walking for three hundred miles that the Leonhardts’ spirits were lifted immeasurably. On some days, Tara even sang as they rode. Sometimes it was an old family favorite, or a bad-karaoke version of a popular song they knew but hadn’t heard in months. And sometimes it was a sad, wistful song half under her breath, accompanied by a tear for the people she’d watched die, and for everything she was leaving behind.

  When they reached Yellowstone, Mrs. Kellerman’s prophecy finally caught up with them and they rode through a blinding snowstorm. They made camp near one of the hot springs, not
far from a herd of bison, and used the natural heat source to keep them and their horses from feeling the worst effects of the early winter weather. For the next several days they camped along geothermal geysers and steaming sections of the river.

  When they finally crossed into Montana, they gathered in a circle and said a prayer of thanks. And when, a few days later, they got within sight of the ranch, they all spontaneously broke into a canter.

  Amy and Jess were out in the yard wrapping fruit trees against the winter deer, their young faces tanned and hardened but still cheerful and full of life. They didn’t recognize the riders approaching the house until they were close enough to shout, and they had already summoned Sarah onto the porch. She came out with shotgun in hand, but when she saw who it was that was riding up her drive, she put the gun down and then sat down herself on the bottom step of the porch, unable to remain steady on her feet.

  Sarah’s children gathered around her for hugs and kisses and words of joy and love, and the tears flowed freely. Walt, ever the dutiful rancher, collected the horses and kept them from wandering by tying them up to the fence rail. When he finally came and stood before his wife, she beamed at him.

  “You did it, Walt. You brought our little girl back. And Mike too! You all came back to me. I love you so, so much.” They hugged each other for a long time as the conversation flowed around them. The family stayed there talking until the sun went down, and they finally proceeded into the house to get a meal on.

  News on each side was exchanged, and Walt and his boys were unhappy to learn that not all was well in the community. Sarah and the other two girls, Jess especially, were dismayed to learn the extent of the damage that had overtaken the country, and they worried about conditions along the west coast. But they all gave thanks that they were together, they were safe, and they had what it took to make a stand in the new order of things.

  All of them had been battle-tested, and they knew now beyond a shadow of a doubt that whatever the future held, they would face it standing up, like the lion-hearted men and women they were.

  Algor Dennison lives in Idaho, where everyone else is going to go when the world ends. If you enjoyed this story, he welcomes reviews at Amazon.com, and you can sign up to be notified of future releases here. Also available:

  The rest of the Denver Burning series, beginning with Get Out of Denver

  The Malevolent Seven: a novella of Western horror

  And, writing as Shad Callister (science fiction):

  Edge Space: Memoir of a Teenage Starfighter Pilot

  Young ace pilot Deckham Bannison is the tip of the spear, and he knows humanity is depending on him and his wingmen. But Earth’s strategists aren’t telling the young pilots everything they need to know in order to secure victory in the wider war, and it’s up to Deckham to uncover the hidden forces that are keeping humanity at war with their mysterious enemy.

  Machines of Eden

  Awakening on the beach of a tropical island, a combat hacker finds himself at the center of a plot to turn Earth into a new Eden where humanity has no place. Caught between an advanced A.I. and her sadistic physical counterpart, and with the clock ticking toward an apocalypse, only one thing is clear: they picked the wrong man to push around.

 

 

 


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