Derek was finding branches for a fire and while cutting through a branch, his hand slipped. He came running back to camp, holding his gashed thumb.
“Oh my god!” Amy cried.
She immediately sprung into nurse mode. Grabbing the first aid kit, she pulled out a washcloth and applied pressure to the wound.
“What about the clotting stuff?” Derek asked.
“I don’t really like it,” Amy admitted. “It’s good for really, really bad wounds, but it can get stuck in a cut and is really hard to clean out. Plain old pressure will be fine.”
They sat in silence for a while. Derek’s thumb pulsed, but the bleeding seemed to be stopping. Amy removed the washcloth for a moment to look at the wound.
“Oh, it’s not so bad.”
Still applying pressure, she got out her water bottle. Derek watched her pour it over his wound and pat it dry with a non-bloody part of the washcloth. The thirsty ground soaked up the water like a vacuum. Derek started to feel anxious again. Having cleaned the wound, Amy carefully bandaged her husband’s thumb.
“There you go.”
“I’m so glad you know how to do all this,” Derek said, examining his bandage. “Where would I be without you?”
“Probably dead.”
Amy got up and retrieved the sticks Derek had dropped in his haste to tend to his thumb. She made a pile and looked at it. Dissatisfied, she went back into the trees and emerged with bigger sticks.
“So, how do we do this? Just...set it on fire?”
“Um...I haven’t done one without a fire pit, but I guess we have to make some sort of hole, so the fire doesn’t just spread everywhere…”
Amy used one of her larger sticks to scrape at the dirt. It only took her a few minutes to realize that was not going to work. She sat back on her heels, scanning the forest.
“I have an idea,” she said, getting up.
She gathered some rocks and began to make a circle with them. Derek joined her and soon they had a makeshift fire pit. Derek arranged the sticks and twigs into a tepee like he had seen on TV. Because Derek’s bandage made knife-work awkward, Amy scraped the tinder and started the fire. She looked very pleased with herself when the kindling burned, a tall flame emerging from the tepee’s center. She smiled at Derek.
“Very nice!” he said.
Amy got out the equipment for dinner and stared at her remaining water.
“We don’t have enough water, do we?” she asked.
Derek shook his head. Amy squinted, counting the number of hours left. She knew how important hydration was, but also that they needed to eat something other than trail mix for dinner. Sighing, she began the process of making one of the dehydrated meals.
Adam woke when he smelled food. Roadie, who had been passed out in the tent with Adam, got up, too. They ate without speaking, too exhausted for conversation. Adam went to drink from his bottle, but seeing how little he had left, reconsidered.
“Go ahead,” Derek urged him. “It’ll be fine.”
Slowly, Adam took a sip and screwed the lid back on. He went back to the tent. Derek hated himself in that moment. Amy could tell he was upset and rubbed his knee.
“There’s nothing you can do about it now,” she whispered. “You have to let it go.”
Derek gave her a brief nod and threw a handful of dust into the fire. Amy sat up with him until she couldn’t keep awake and Derek sent her to bed. He stared into the dying fire as the darkness closed in. Everything felt still. Lifeless. When Derek crawled into the tent, he was asleep before his head hit the sleeping bag.
In the pitch black, Derek woke. At first, he wasn’t sure the reason, but then Roadie barked again.
“Stop it,” Derek mumbled.
Roadie was tense, his ears like daggers. Amy and Adam slept still, undisturbed. Roadie was facing the tent door. Derek fumbled for the flashlight and switched it on. He unzipped the flap and Roadie burst out. Derek followed, less aggressively, and shone the light around camp. Everything seemed normal. Roadie was standing perfectly still, looking into the darkness. He was growling now. Derek shone the light in that direction. Just trees.
“What the hell are you freaking out about?”
Derek was about to grab Roadie’s collar to pull him back towards the tent when a form emerged from the woods. Derek froze. The wolf was scrawny from hunger, its ribs poking out. Its eyes glowed yellow. Roadie growled steadily, pulling his lips back to reveal bone-white teeth. The wolf kept walking, low to the ground, its head bent down. Derek had no idea what to do. His gun was safely stowed in his pack, along with his knife. He didn’t know what to do around wolves. Yell? Wave his arms? The wolf crouched like it was about to spring. Roadie erupted in barking like Derek had never heard before. He was still holding the dog’s collar and as Roadie leapt, the force nearly jerked Derek’s arm from its socket. In that same moment, a gunshot rang out from behind Derek, deafening him. The wolf fell, its chest opened up by a shotgun bullet. Roadie continued to bark, circling the wolf’s body. Derek spun around with the light.
“Geez, don’t shine that right in my face.”
“Buckle!”
Derek lowered the light, lunging to envelop his brother in a hug. Somewhere in his mind, Derek had been afraid he would never see him again. Buckle held him close for a while, before patting his back. The noises had finally woke Amy and Adam, who emerged from the tent. Adam had his knife out, the blade open, and a terrifyingly cold expression on his face, but when he saw Buckle, he began to cry. Amy pulled Adam against her and stroked his hair. Gingerly, she took the knife from him, closing the blade.
“How in God’s name did you find us, Buckle?” she asked.
“Not too hard,” Buckle said. “I figured you’d be in this general area, given how much time had passed and that this is the simplest route. It did take a hell of a long time, though, Ams, let me tell you. Looks like I turned up at the right time.”
He pointed in the direction of the wolf. Derek shone the light back so Amy could see. She gasped.
“Roadie! Get away from that!”
The dog obeyed, albeit reluctantly.
“Let’s get back to my place,” Buckle said. “Get out of these dang woods, hmm?”
He smiled at Adam, who was trying to wipe away his tears. Derek moved quickly; it didn’t take long to get the sleeping bags and tent rolled up. Buckle carried Adam’s pack and they left the woods to find Buckle’s truck parked on the side of the road.
“What happened to your car?” Buckle asked. “Did someone nab it?”
“Ran out of gas.”
Buckle didn’t say anything. It was a stupid mistake, Derek knew, and he didn’t feel proud. Everyone piled in the truck. Amy and Adam fell asleep immediately, leaning against each other, with Roadie across their laps. Derek was silent. After a few minutes, Buckle glanced over at him.
“I was worried sick, man,” he said. “The news is just crazy. This thing is spreading like wildfire and no one can contain it. Whole towns are getting sick. Hospitals can’t handle it.”
“How many are dead?”
“Gosh, I don’t even know. Last I heard was like a hundred? They’ve basically stopped keeping count of how many cases are popping up; it’s a full-blown Pandemic now.”
“I read something about chickenpox being important. Like the incubation period is different if you’ve had it or not.”
“Oh yeah. If you’ve had chickenpox, the incubation period is longer. Damned if they know why, though.”
“I’ve had chickenpox,” Derek said, suddenly feeling very nervous. “Do you think…”
“We’ll keep an eye on you,” Buckle said. “You aren’t contagious until you start sneezing or whatever.”
It wasn’t an especially comforting answer, but it was practical. Derek reflected inwardly on how he felt, but the soreness from walking was the only thing he could focus on. He felt defeated, but also extremely relieved.
“You saved our lives, Buckle,” Derek said. “Not
just with the prepping before, but right now. I didn’t pack enough water. We had like eight hours left and three bottles.”
Derek couldn’t see what Buckle’s expression was in the dark. He didn’t know if he really wanted to see it.
“Well, shit,” Buckle said.
“Yeah. So...thanks for coming to find us.”
“Family has to stick together.”
“You knew we weren’t ready.”
Buckle shrugged, his eyes fixed on the road. Derek watched the trees zooming past them, lit only by the headlight’s peripheral glow. It took on a hypnotic effect to the point where Derek didn’t even notice he had fallen asleep. Next thing he remembered, Buckle was nudging him and whispering they were home.
Being inside had never felt so good. Buckle’s barn-house smelled of melting wax and dog. Roadie immediately began to sniff around and was not satisfied until he found the German Shepherd puppy sleeping on an animal skin rug in the hallway. Adam, emotionally-spent, collapsed on a couch.
“You guys need something to drink,” Buckle stated.
He slid the rug in the hall, puppy still on it, revealing a trapdoor. Buckle opened it and went down a short flight of stairs. Derek could hear him moving around under their feet.
“Juice?” Buckle called. “Gatorade? Chocolate milk?”
He brought all three. The juice was in a can and after cutting it open, he poured it into a plastic cup for Adam. When Buckle walked over, Adam didn’t move.
“Hey,” Buckle said, elbowing Adam in the back. “You need to drink.”
Adam held up his hand, face still buried in the couch, and Buckle gave it to him. Adam lifted his head as if weighed a thousand pounds and sipped at the cup.
“You guys, too.”
Derek helped Amy and himself to chocolate milk. He had heard it was better than Gatorade after strenuous physical activity. The milk was cold and Derek drank until he thought he might explode.
“I got your rooms all set up,” Buckle said.
He stepped over the puppy and Roadie, who had already made friends.
“What’s your puppy’s name?” Amy asked, bending down to scratch its belly.
“Bailey,” Buckle replied.
Amy glanced back at Derek. Bailey had been the last name of Buckle’s ex-fiancee. The bedroom had hardwood floors, like all of the house, and a fireplace. In a different time, Buckle could have made a great living off of opening a rustic bed-and-breakfast. The bed frame and headboard looked hand-carved, displaying leaves and branches.
“It’s beautiful,” Amy said.
“Traded some beekeeping supplies for it.”
“How’s that going? Your bees?”
“Fantastic. I’m a little worried about winter, but my friend who got me started has done it before, so they’ll probably be fine. Just gotta wrap the hives and leave them alone.”
Derek stretched across the bed, his body rejoicing in the softness. He must have fallen asleep again because suddenly the candles were out and Amy was taking off his shoes. He started awake.
“Huh? What?”
“It’s ok. I put Adam to bed. The bathroom is right there, if you need it.”
Derek got up and found his way. There was a survival candle burning in there, providing just enough light to see his reflection. Derek turned the faucet, unsure if the water was even on. It was. Buckle hadn’t gone completely native, it seemed. After splashing his face, Derek contemplated getting his toothbrush from his pack, but he was just too tired. When he looked at himself in the mirror, he was staring at someone ten years older.
Chapter 9
Derek awoke to the sound and smell of frying bacon. The sun was blazing in through the shutters, indicating morning had long since passed. Amy’s spot was empty; a fresh pair of clothes had taken her place. Derek dressed, recognizing Buckle’s jeans and shirt, and balled up his reeking clothes. Barefoot, he went out to the hall. Roadie was sitting in the kitchen, his head cocked at Buckle, who was making the bacon. Adam sat on the floor playing with Bailey. When Derek walked further in the room, he saw Amy sitting with her feet up on the couch, hair wet. She smiled when she saw him.
“Good afternoon,” she called.
“What time is it?”
“Just after 2pm,” Buckle announced. “Don’t worry, your family only woke up like a half-hour ago.”
Derek sat cross-legged on the floor. Bailey came over to inspect him, her large dark-chocolate eyes staring up at him. Derek smiled. He held out his hand for her to sniff.
“You’re cute,” he told her.
Roadie, jealous, left his post by the bacon and trotted over to stick his nose in Derek’s face.
“You’re gonna meet all the folks here today,” Buckle said. “Don’t feel too bad if people aren’t too welcoming.”
“What do you mean?”
“This is a tight group. We agreed to not let outsiders in, but I told them you weren’t an outsider. I didn’t tell them you were exposed though, so that’ll be a fun conversation.”
Adam shot a look at his father, his face suddenly pale.
“I thought you were fine, Dad,” he said.
“And he probably is,” Buckle broke in. “We just gotta be absolutely sure, so he’s gotta stay here until we know for sure he doesn’t have any symptoms.”
“How long is that for?”
“At least three weeks. That’s how long it’s taken for people who’ve had chicken pox to show.”
“I shouldn’t even be around you guys,” Derek insisted. “If this is a real concern.”
Everyone argued for a good forty minutes before an arrangement was set. Derek would stay in the bedroom with Amy sleeping in the living room. Amy would bring his food and whatever else he needed, but Buckle and Adam were to stay away, even if there weren’t symptoms. Once it was all settled, Derek took a plate of food back to his room and shut the door. He could hear Roadie scratching at it, whining. He didn’t understand why his master wouldn’t let him in. Derek ate his afternoon breakfast alone and looked out the window.
Mineral Point was tiny, but prepared. Derek could see three houses from the window, and all were decked out with shiny-new security doors, boarded windows, and big, thorny bushes in the front yard. Buckle crossed the street and was soon joined by three other men. They were big, dressed in jeans and tank tops, and wearing gun holsters. Buckle pointed at Derek through the window. There seemed to be some kind of argument with the three men waving their arms and pointing at Buckle, but he seemed to calm them down relatively quickly. Adam and Amy appeared next, and everyone shook hands. They talked for another ten minutes or so before everyone went their separate ways. Derek could hear the family returning and Amy’s light steps coming to the door.
“Well, they weren’t happy,” she said, closing the door behind her.
She handed Derek a water bottle, his toiletries, and a dry towel. Derek took a long swig before speaking.
“Did Buckle calm them down?”
“He told them about our little quarantine and that you had been really careful with that guy in the store. They were also pretty pleased that I’m a nurse, so that seemed to settle everything.”
“How is Adam doing?”
“He’s ok. He’s still exhausted, and I think he’s in shock. Buckle wants to show him around, if that’s ok.”
“Of course. If Adam wants to.”
He did want to. Derek watched Adam and Buckle cross the street and disappear off to the left. They were gone for around two hours. While he waited, Derek took a nap and read the magazines Amy brought him. They were all about wilderness survival and prepping. In his time alone, Derek learned about how to treat a wound with a sanitary napkin; recipes using just cornmeal, water, and sugar; and bartering tips. Fascinated, the time went by faster than Derek feared. He was startled when he heard a knock.
“Dad? It’s me! Don’t worry, I’m not coming in.”
“Hi, son! Did you have fun with Buckle?”
“He showed me aroun
d! Everyone here is awesome! There’s a guy who knows how to do blacksmith stuff, a lady who sews everyone’s clothes so no one has to go shopping, and a huge garden that everyone shares!”
Derek sat with his back to the door, listening to Adam talk. It was strange to not be able to see his son, but better than nothing. Adam sounded excited, though Derek guessed the seriousness of the situation hadn’t quite hit him yet. Now that they were out of immediate danger, it would probably all rush over him at once.
As the weeks went by, Adam spent every evening by the door, talking to his father. He did have some harder nights where he felt weird about not going back to school or seeing his friends. Buckle kept him pretty busy though, learning how to garden, hunt, and woodwork. By the time the three weeks were up and Derek was allowed out of his room, Adam’s arms and leg were bulging with muscle and he had a dark tan. He didn’t even seem to miss his video games or the Internet, which was connected with a hardline to Buckle’s computer. The only time Buckle used it was to look up the news and blogs.
The pox showed no signs of slowing down. Cities were essentially run by martial law and anyone who wasn’t sick was on the run. Those wealthy enough left the country completely. The President had been flown off the continent and was running the country from Great Britain. Sometimes a few people came by Mineral Point, but the community had built a barricade with a sign that read “Stay Away: Infected Here.” That scared just about everyone off. Anyone who did dare cross the barricade was chased off by a group wielding shotguns. At first, Derek felt strange about not letting anyone in, but it only took seeing one infected person trying to climb a fence to banish that strange feeling. It was a woman wearing shreds of clothing, her skin covered in oozy, black spots. A circle formed around her, keeping their distance.
Band of Preppers: A Prepper Fiction Novel (Book 1) Page 9