No Normal Day IV (Travelers)

by Richardson, J.

  No Normal Day IV

  Travelers

  J. Richardson

  COPYWRIGHT

  All Rights Reserved

  Copyright © 2013 by J. Richardson

  The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  No Normal Day IV

  Travelers

  J. Richardson

  COPYWRIGHT

  CHAPTER ONE

  The Arkansas Traveler

  CHAPTER TWO

  The Healing Springs

  Chapter Three

  Alligators and Magnolias

  Chapter Four

  A Visit to Unity

  Chapter Five

  The Long Way Around

  Chapter Six

  The River Trail

  Chapter Seven

  Secrets in the Desert

  Chapter Eight

  Neither Snow, nor Rain, nor Heat, nor Gloom of Night...

  Chapter Nine

  The House That Jack Built

  CHAPTER ONE

  The Arkansas Travelers

  EMILY

  Hard pea sized pellets of ice peppered down on the domed top of the camper. Emily peeped out of the sleeping bag with a blanket on top, there was only a dim dawn light. It wasn't more than four steps from the bunk where she slept to the other end of the vintage travel trailer and if she stood right in the middle, even her arms nearly reached side to side. It would be another cold-ass day, she dreaded to move the few steps to the porta-potti. Gonna have to, was her un-welcomed thought. She pushed the little round ball of fur at her feet over, sat upright, bent over and pulled insulated boots onto her socked feet. Her naturally curly dark brown hair sprang out wildly around her face. She reached for a stretchy band coiled on the table in front of her and pushed the thick curls back with it.

  “Hey, lil' girl,” she said through teeth that chattered and rustled her hand through the soft fur. “Gotta pee? Me, too.” She took an expandable leash from the table, hooked it to the leather collar. Two steps and she opened the camper door, looked around, not a soul in sight. She propped the door open, after all it couldn't get much colder inside. The dog jumped to the ground and she secured the end of the leash inside. The sleet had turned to nickel size snowflakes that were melting as they hit the ground. In the compact toilet area, she took care of business, poured some water from a jug in the bowl. Good, her water wasn't frozen. The waste gurgled away through the old sewer hook-up. She was one of only two inhabitants of the RV park. Sometimes she felt like the only inhabitant of the world, indeed it was just herself and Girl in her world.

  Girl had already jumped back inside and vigorously shook the wet off. She pulled the door shut and locked it. There, by the door hung her .38 in it's holster and the 30/30 rifle. On the top of the space where three useless burners sat under a metal cover, was her small cast iron hibachi cooker. She reached down in a basket and pulled out some twigs and small kindling, a couple of chunks of charcoal. Much as she hated to, she cracked the roll out window behind the stove. She rubbed her freezing fingers together and lit a piece of paper under the twigs, blew on it a bit and shortly she had a small fire in the cooker. She placed a two cup aluminum pot on the fire to brew a little coffee.

  One thing about this space, it didn't take much to warm it up a little. In her thermal underwear, jeans and sweatshirt, it would soon be tolerable in the old camper. She rolled up her sleeping bag and left the blanket for Girl. When the coffee pot had bubbled up, she poured herself a cup and sat at the table. As was her morning habit, she pulled out a mirror on a stand, ran a brush through her hair and replaced the wide band. From a small saucepan that shared the cooker with the coffee pot, she wet a washcloth with warm water and wiped off her face, brushed her teeth in the single one foot square sink. Back to the mirror she smeared a little make-up over her turned up nose and cheeks, her dark blue eyes reflected back at her. This routine was exactly that, just a routine.

  She told herself that the make-up protected her face and even the dog had to be able to tolerate being around her. It was certainly not for anyone else because there wasn't anyone else. The hard truth was she had made it her job to carefully avoid any other human. As of a year before, the last person that she loved and trusted had died.

  When the mystery event happened fifteen years earlier that changed the world, she had lived with her parents and younger sister in a rural area to the north. Her parents were both college educated but they loved the country life and actively pursued self sufficiency. Her father worked in the nearby city, however he considered it a fascinating challenge to accomplish any feat of independence, they gardened, canned, hunted, he experimented with solar and wind. The information and rumors that sifted down indicated that an EMP had occurred, knocked out the electrical grid and even brought computerized transportation to a dead halt. They survived quite well in their country haven for the next few years. After about five years, her younger sister had become very ill in the winter and they lost her. Another five years and her father passed away and then a year ago, she had lost her mother. Earlier there had been a few distant neighbors and they maintained contact for several months, some were around for a few years. Eventually, they were no longer there. At the age of thirty two, Emily was totally alone. All those years she had cared for her aging parents and just survived, she hardly knew what to do with herself.

  She had accompanied her father a few times over the years and they had cautiously traveled into part of the city. Once, in an attempt to find medicine for her sister, with no luck. They had spoke with a couple of people in the city. The information that slowly networked around, indicated that the recovery ranged from non existent to very slow. It was said that communities and cities had grown up, some of them were controlled by bad groups and some of them were formed by good people. It also seemed that a few scattered towns were a mixture, actually more resembling cities in the Before world. Parts of the town inhabited with decent folks, who protected their boundaries with ferocity and parts would be inhabited with those that were constantly up to no good. With no organized law, people made their own rules and enforced them. The town that sprawled out, down below the RV park that Emily had taken refuge in, was one of those variegated type cities.

  JEFF and KEVIN

  The donkeys waddled with their short legged gait, the clanging wagon with everything but the kitchen sink dangling from the sides, rolled along at their chosen pace. Jeff and his son sat on the seat across the front of the cart, both wore their baseball caps and T-shirts. It had not escaped Jeff's notice that his young son looked back, as long as he could see the four nice folks they had met the night before. Through the dust that rose in a cloud behind them, the two couples and their horse drawn wagon faded away from his son's view. He knew what a lonely life this was for a nine year old boy. He also was aware that Kevin missed his mother very much. So did he, the loss of her was like a sharp rock in his heart, everyday. The kind woman they had just left, was a painful reminder of what they did not have. It was probably the reason for this life on the move. The life that everyone in America had known fifteen years ago had vanished in a moment. The nine year old Kevin knew no life that was different from living in the After. Somehow, Jeff felt like he could keep him safer and happier, if they traveled, stayed on the move. He had never looked back to California.

  It had also captured his son's imagination and his own admittedly, when they started taking letters from folks they encountered. They could only promise to try their best, it was not a certainty, but
they would try to deliver the letters as they traveled the country. It had given them a purpose, an occupation. Right now, in the canvas bag that hung on the side of the wagon, a new letter lay. A letter from the woman Ashley to family and friends in Texas. He hoped they would make it to the town of Unity, the place that the four had told him was a sanctuary for good folks. He planned to travel that direction, sometime up ahead. They had about two dozen other letters in the bag that had been labeled US MAIL, with a magic marker. Skirting around the worst of the winter weather was always the important factor that determined where and when they traveled.

  Three nights later, Father and son made camp at a location near the New Mexico and Texas border. The wagon had a permanent slope sided tent cover. This was why all of their supplies and various and assorted treasures hung off the sides of the cart, so they could have room to sleep under cover. Sometimes the tent top provided a shelter from rain or other harsh weather for long hours. Jeff made sure that they could stretch out and sleep or sit inside and eat, maybe play cards or a game. This evening they had some supper and played a couple of games of Gin Rummy by the light of an oil lantern. It was a chilly but clear night and both ends of the pointy tent were open.

  Jeff didn't know how long he had been asleep, something made his eyes fly open. He laid still and listened, his hand moved to the pistol at his side. On his belly, he carefully raised up to peer over the back of the wagon. The last embers of the campfire glowed and the moon sprayed a mist of light around the wagon. The noise that had awakened him was near the fire, two dark forms routed and snuffled around the waning warmth. They were low and long, short legged, not as big as a coyote but much bigger than a jack rabbit. Those were the only two animals native to this dry area that he could bring to mind. One of the rounded heads, it's pointy ears pricked, jerked up and looked his way. There was a very low growl. Two large “bug” eyes glinted above a beak like nose and mouth. He swore, “What the hell are those?” He slowly raised his pistol.

  He recalled that one of the men they had met days before, David had told him about a strange animal his group had encountered. When he realized that the two of them were headed right back over the territory that he had just came from, he voiced a warning, “I don't know that one alone would be dangerous, just because it was not that big. It was pretty darn vicious though, ripped that rabbit to shreds. If there happened to be several...wouldn't want to tangle with them,” he had said to Jeff.

  By that time, Kevin had eased up beside him, he looked out at the odd creatures. “Dad, what are they? Wow, those are weird,” he whispered. The small arm pulled a .22 rifle to his side.

  The animal that had heard them, raised up on it's haunches to a height of a little over two feet. Light fur lined it's underside and a stubby tail was tucked under, the short legs ended in long claws. Just as Jeff had thought of David's warning and decided that this was not something to mess with, the creature made an odd squeaking sound and the pair scurried off into the night. He took a shot but the animals had moved into the darkness too quickly and he missed. They could hear them as they made the unfamiliar sounds that faded away.

  Kevin rose up and sat cross legged in the back of the wagon. “Darn, Dad...I don't think we've ever seen one of those things...have we?

  “No, it's not exactly like any animal I have ever seen, Son.” Jeff shook his head, “They have to be some kind of new animal, a mutation or cross breed.”

  “Think they are dangerous?” asked the boy.

  He chuckled a bit, “They sure didn't look cuddly. I spotted some sharp claws and that was a weird face, nearly looked like a big bird's beak.”

  They both sat up against the inside wagon walls for a while and finally laid back down and got four more hours sleep. No signs of the animals or clues around the campsite when the morning came. They had stoked the fire up again, some bird's eggs that they had found the day before and spam cooked on the flames. Jeff squatted with a cup of coffee in his hands, Kevin sat on the ground and sipped instant cocoa. “You know, I've been thinking. It's a long ways across west Texas,” said Jeff. He took out a map and spread it on the rocky ground, pointing at their present location, he continued, “I think we will head across the Panhandle, into Oklahoma and over into Arkansas. We might even travel down into Louisiana and then over to east Texas.” His tanned finger traced that route across the States. “We have letters for Oklahoma and at least one for Arkansas. The winter is pretty much the same in these southern states and I think we will have more water in Oklahoma.”

  A grin crossed Kevin's freckled face, “And there are those boogers.”

  The man returned the smile, “I won't kid you, Bud. That was some strange wildlife. You know your superstitious ole' father...just like the idea of turning east.” He folded the map away.

  “Sounds good to me. Let's give the donkeys some water and hit the trail.” The boy kicked dirt on the fire and stowed away the gear.

  Jeff rose and stretched, he was of medium height, lean and tan with the life of being on the road. He kept his sun bleached brown hair cut short. In the before world, he was an engineer and a member of the National Guard, long hair just wasn't natural to him. Eyes that were to the brown side of hazel gazed out from under thick brows, a wide toothy smile caused a dimple on one side. His son looked much like a small replica of him, except for eyes that were more blue like his mother's had been. They both loved their bright tropical print shirts but it had been necessary to trade them for a sweatshirt lately. The father plopped his cap on his head, stood up and said, “Yep, Arkansas or bust.”

  ***

  About six months after she buried her mother, Emily awoke one morning and knew, it was time for her to leave this country haven and venture out. They had an old horse but she wanted nothing to care for, other than Girl, the little dog. She would leave her long time home on foot. Out in the barn, there was a large old red wagon with sides, she and her sister had pulled it many miles. Supplies could be loaded in it and she also filled a large back pack. Emily was accustomed to walking in the woods, she was very accomplished with a gun and a good hunter. Her father had taught her to clean and dress a kill, to recognize wild food, to survive in many ways. Learned skills of caution and stealth would serve her better if she was on foot and alone. Several paperback books on survival, snake and bird identification, basic first aid and maps would be in her supplies. There was no long term destination in her head. She knew that she would come near the city within three days of walking and have to decide, would she go around it or through it.

  She had camped for two nights after walking all day. The road was narrow and winding, with thick tall forests all along the sides. In the occasional breaks in the evergreen trees, you could see distant blue mountains. The woods or the animals of the forest did not frighten her, it was humans that she was leery of. She had met no one so far. Girl rode atop the pile of supplies in the wagon, most of the day. When your legs are only about three inches long, it takes a lot a steps to keep up with a young woman's stride. So, as much as the dog loved to bob along beside her best friend, they made much better time when she rode. It was about midway through day three and she knew that they would very soon approach the city, there would be a tall rise and the town would lay below.

  On the peak above the town, a sign on her left read Hi Top RV Camp. The arrow pointed up a steep entrance. She and her dad had paused at that campground once. He had commented that it was not the prime tourist season when the event happened and the park was not full, like it would have been later. He said that probably a lot of folks had eventually abandoned the travel trailers and gone down into the town, seeking food and information. It seemed like a good place to rest, she wanted to give some thought to her plan to enter the town or not. The wagon squeaked a bit as she pulled it up the incline. The campground had three long streets with campsites, each lane rose a little higher until you could look over the city from the last row of campsites. Emily watched on all sides as she continued the slow climb. The do
g startled her when she started yapping wildly, dancing on her perch. She stopped, her hand on her .38 at her waist and scanned all around. A door to a trailer nearby opened just a slim crack. Yip-Yip-Yip!...she spoke above the noise, “Hey. We are just going up farther to rest, want no trouble.”

  The door slit widened a bit more, a head with long gray hair and a beard above a flannel shirt poked out. “Hey, ya-self. Damn ferocious dog you got there.” Girl stopped her shrill barking and her bottom rose, the tiny tail wagged rapidly. “Hah,” the old voice said with amusement.

  Emily glanced around and said, “Other folks in the campground?”

  “Nope, just me. I'm Caleb. If you need a place to stay for a bit, just take your pick.” He swept a gnarled hand around, “Ain't nobody been in here for a long time. I warn ya, though, better be checking for varmints before you squat in any of the campers.”

  “Okay, well thanks Caleb. I am Emily and this is Girl.” The dog let out one friendly yip. “We'll move along for now.”

  The wagon rolled a foot, “Miss, didn't you and your father stop here once, several years ago?” asked the old man.

  Emily stopped and thought a minute, “Yeah, I think we did,” she said.

  Caleb rubbed his beard, “Your father was a very smart fella, nice too.”

  “He was,” she said in a low voice.

  “You lost him?” said Caleb.

  “Yes, and my sister and my mother,” there was a slight catch in her throat.

  The man stepped down the metal risers of the trailer and moved to pet Girl. His hands were arthritic and he moved with a lot of difficulty. “I am sorry,” and then, “Listen, if you are thinking of going down into the town, think twice. On the far side, on the lake shore, there is one community of pretty good folks. Unfortunately, between here and there, some real mean people rule.”