No Normal Day IV (Travelers)

by Richardson, J.

  Cissy spoke, still whispering, “Dad, we found a door out. We followed Girl and a soldier and he went outside through a door...I saw him.” The incessant soft music drifted down from the pale ceiling. The two children sat on the edge of the bed, breathless. Jeff searched for a paper and pen. He opened a drawer, found a pad and gave it to Cissy.

  “You remember? Write it down, draw it carefully, the way you followed Girl.” said Jeff.

  Cissy drew a small map with the turns to the Lab door. He hugged both of the children. “That's great, you did so good. When we are all here this evening after supper, we will make our plan. I have some more things to check out and you better go back to the garden and finish your work.”

  He needed to see if he could follow Cissy's map and find that room. Bless her heart, he thought, the girl was very accurate and he soon stood at the door to the lab. At least, it was possibly the right room. He peered in the small glass and scanned the room with tables and microscopes and bottle filled shelves along the walls, he could not see a door anywhere. Then, he saw a very thin sliver of light on the floor and realized that it was from a nearly invisible door. However, they would have to break into the lab door, unless they had the code. If they had to break in, there might be an alarm, so they would have to be out of that exit door pronto and run as fast as they could. Every hall in the bunker was bright as day, all the time, some even had motion lights. It would not be easy, night or day to move with stealth in the hallways.

  The second obstacle was that if they could not get their own confiscated weapons back, they had to have some guns. He wasn't certain but thought their best bet would be to knock out a couple of the guards that walked the halls around the clock, each carried a side arm and a rifle. They had been allowed to keep their packs, they all still had flashlights and a thing or two that might be handy.

  They went to the dinner hall that evening, had supper and visited as if all was normal for them. They anxiously returned to their quarters and discussed the plan for leaving the Walker Bunker.

  Two evenings later, with their plan firm in their minds, the tools that they needed gathered, the family of four waited until nearly midnight to go into action. The first guard ambled down the hall towards their door. Their door opened and Girl dashed out, Kevin right behind her. “Stop, darnit! Here Girl, here...” He picked up the dog and stood in front of the open door. “Hey,” he said to the soldier.

  The soldier nodded and stopped to pet the wiggly animal. Kevin said, “Boy, wish I could be a soldier someday. Could I try on your helmet? It is really neat.”

  The soldier looked up and down the hall and said, “Sure, I guess.” He unstrapped the helmet and handed it to the boy. Kevin was putting it on his head as Jeff stepped out and whopped the soldier over the head. It wasn't like in the movies, the man moaned and went to his knees, held his head but he was not knocked out.

  Jeff cursed, “Damn!” and dropped the crowbar that they would need later and that was wrapped in a towel with duct tape, he drug the dazed guard into the room. Emily picked up the softened crowbar and hit the soldier again. This time he seemed to go out. Jeff gave her a rather surprised look and drug the man into the adjoining room. He used the duct tape, which had been in his pack, to tape up the soldier's hands, feet and mouth. They took his rifle and pistol. They each strapped on their back packs, the dog was tucked in Kevin's sling and they eased down the bright hallway. They had made two turns when they heard a second guard approaching. This time they waited at the intersection of two halls and repeated the crowbar hit. Maybe Jeff's adrenaline was high, this time the soldier went down with the first whack. They took his guns, taped him and left him in the hallway. They were in the last hallway, near the lab entry now. Jeff unwrapped the crowbar and taped it to the end of his rifle, he jumped and knocked out the first of four over head lights. Emily and the kids nervously watched and listened and they all took out their flashlights.

  They reached the lab door, the flashlights made small circles in the dark, the crowbar was in Jeff's hand now, “Okay, be ready. There is probably going to be an alarm. We will go straight to the right back corner of the room and I will have to figure out how to open that door. As soon as it is open, run...run and don't stop until I say so.”

  Got it was repeated three times.

  He put the crowbar in the door jamb and pushed hard, no give of the metal door. He repositioned the pry bar and tried again, this time the door swung in and a blaring BEEP-BEEP-BEE-EEP! Burst out. They moved to the hidden door, the three held their lights on the space. Jeff took his fist and systematically beat all around the outer edges of the door. The beeps blasted without rest. He had nearly pounded around the whole edge of the door when a small hatch popped open, there was a door handle that easily turned. The sound of stomping boots and shouts grew closer. The secret door flung outward and they all ran with Jeff in the lead. He just ran, he had no idea where they had exited and the three stuck like glue behind him.

  Cissy shouted, “Dad, look it's that old tower. Didn't we pass that when we came in the base?” Jeff moved them towards the tower and out the front gate of the base. He could hear vehicles roaring, he had forgot that these people had vehicles. They stayed low and eased around the back of one of the old barracks. Spotlights started to sweep, inside and outside the base grounds. Jeff was still determined to get away from this base and he moved out across the open fields. They were getting exhausted and still ducking the lights and sounds of pursuing trucks, what looked like a concrete box was suddenly in front of them. A heavy door opened and a voice said, “Get in! Hurry.”

  Jeff leveled his rifle and backed up, “Hell no, that's the way we got into this mess.”

  The voice which stood in darkness in the doorway, said, “I don't have time to argue. I am not the government...get in here or they will hunt you down.”

  The father had to make a quick decision, “Go,” he said to his family and they followed the man a few feet. Once again, a heavy door slammed behind them and Jeff thought, Oh god, what have I done?

  A dim light came on and a man about his own age stood in front of him, “I am Rick,” the man said and reached out to shake hands. They followed the man down long and wide cement walled passageways. Jeff remembered the missile silo stories and wondered if that was where they were.

  His guess turned out to be the case, the silo was the home of twenty survivors, grown from an original twelve. It was another underground oasis and very self sufficient, except this was a haven created by citizens. Rick assured them that the military would search for a day or so and assume they had moved away from the area.

  Jeff asked, “Don't they know you are here? Won't they be searching for us here?”

  “If they know we are here, they have never acknowledged us. As a matter of fact, there are several of the old silos that are inhabited. We all network and communicate, that is how we knew you were in the area. We knew when you went on to the base. Frankly, I did not think you would come back out,” said Rick.

  “I was beginning to have some doubts myself. We are headed to Colorado. We want to make a home there,” said Jeff. “We have a wagon but I don't know if our donkeys will be around or alive.”

  Rick said, “Oh, your donkeys are fine. I have even taken some carrots over a few times. They are free grazing, still right there in the area. Look, just take it easy for a couple of days, you are welcome here. The Walker-ites will forget about you and you can travel on.”

  Kevin said, “Yea, did you hear Dad? The donkeys are still there.”

  A huge sense of relief swept over Jeff and he hugged his family to him. For the first time in a couple of weeks things felt right. Girl was being squeezed and gave out a little yelp. Kevin looked sheepishly at their host and said, “I am sorry, but we have a dog.”

  Rick just gave him a smile and said, “That's not much of a dog, son...don't worry, she can stay.”

  The travelers would soon be headed north again. On fold out cots, Emily and Jeff reached out for
each other's hand. They were safe and together, they had escaped from what some might call sanctuary but they would call prison. Jeff's last thought as he drifted off to sleep was, Maybe not any aliens in that place, but those folks were frightening.

  Chapter Eight

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

  It was not so difficult to locate and re-capture the donkeys. Rick walked with them back to their campsite, the donkeys had already connected the man with carrots and came right up to them. This was much to Kevin's delight. They seemed to have fared just fine during the nearly two weeks of being on their own. The family rummaged around on the wagon and found some things to give the man for his hospitality and for probably saving them from being sent back to the sanctuary prison. He was pleased with some books and a wool blanket. He gave them some heirloom seeds, seeds that would continue to make seeds for growing food. They thanked him and he wished them luck. He walked off across the rough terrain towards his underground home. Just as the man had said, after a day the military quit looking for them and the open range that led to the river banks was quiet again.

  The evening was quite cold, it was well into February now. The family was so thankful to be back at their wagon, back by the campfire under the huge dome of stars, they did not care if it was cold. They looked at the map and talked of the next miles that would take them to the headwaters of the river and to Sante Fe. The letter that was for someone there, was the last letter that Jeff had in the mail bag. It was the last letter, other than the small stack at the bottom that he had not been able to deliver and the ribbon tied bundle for the couples in Colorado. He hoped he would find the addressee of this final letter. After the diversion of the last couple of weeks, he was once again dreamed of reaching that high country location and the home that he and his family would make.

  For the next couple of weeks they rode on the wagon during the day, layered and bundled up and they slept under multiple blankets inside the wagon at night. Back in Texas, March would be bring warmer Spring weather. Here on the trail that the travelers followed near the river, there was an occasional warm day, mostly the wind and cold stayed with them as they consistently pulled up to higher elevations. By the end of another week after Roswell, the snow capped mountains were in their view. They would leave the river side before they actually reached the headwaters, which were near Pecos, New Mexico and head westward towards the old town of Sante Fe.

  It was late on a Saturday when the donkey took them into the town. Most of the structures that still stood were low and boxy and stucco covered, the rich colors of clay. An aged but beautiful Catholic Church dominated the old downtown plaza that had once been a favorite of tourists. As they neared the church, they saw several people actually going in and out of the impressive building. They pulled up and tied off the donkeys. Emily went to the bags and searched until she found a delicate white handkerchief and a pale silk scarf. She tied the scarf around her fluffy curls and clipped the hanky to Cissy's head. The girl looked at her in question, “Why are we doing this, Em?”

  Emily pushed a strand of hair from the pretty little face, “Well, sweetie, it is their belief and we would not want to show disrespect.” The girl noticed now that all the women or girls wore something on their head as the entered the huge wooden doors of the church. The four of them reverently entered the church and sat in the very back. The light sent prisms of color through stained glass windows and a large carved crucifix hung at the end of the aisle, high above the wooden pews. The visitors bowed their heads.

  On the front steps of the church, some folks nodded their heads to them. One man, short and gray haired, stopped and said, “Welcome, I am Joseph.”

  Jeff extended his hand, “I am Jeff, this is my family. We are travelers, headed to a place in southern Colorado.” He pulled the crinkled letter from his jacket, “I have this letter for a person named Lauren Greenlee. Would you be able to tell me where Garcia Street is?”

  The man smiled, “Of course, I will give you the way.”

  “And this lady is still there, do you know?” said Jeff.

  “Oh yes, Senora Greenlee is still there. She is quite aged now, but she is still there at her home,” said the man and started to tell Jeff how to find the street. The man looked up and across the plaza, a frown crossed his brow. Jeff followed his gaze and saw four men standing on the other side of the old square, pretty good distance away but they looked armed. “You need to be careful, my son. There are some pretty nasty characters that hang around the town.”

  “Thank you, I appreciate the warning.” said Jeff. He moved Em and the kids towards the wagon. “Kev, you and Cissy get in the back of the wagon and be alert.” He exchanged a look with Emily and they crawled up on the wagon seat and he snapped the reins for the donkeys to move. As they neared the four men, Jeff could see they all had guns in holsters at their hips. Two of the men were rather dark brown skinned and the other two much lighter, they were all dirty, bearded and their long hair was pulled back and tied behind their heads.

  One of the men stepped forward as the wagon clattered right in front of them, “Hey, meester, looks like you got some she-it there.”

  Jeff said, “You have something you would like to trade?”

  The man spat on the ground and they all laughed out loud, “We just take what we need, I think” Their hands went to the pistols.

  Two rifle barrels poked through under the edge of the tent, from the side of the wagon and Emily leaned out past Jeff to level her rifle at the men...Click-click-click and a fourth click as Jeff drew his .45. The men held their hands out away from their guns and the laughter stopped. Jeff urged the donkeys again, Emily crawled behind the seat, into the wagon bed and three barrels poked out under the back tent flap as the wagon rolled away.

  He followed the directions the man at the church had given him. They would need to be careful until they could get away from the town. Jeff wanted to get this last letter delivered and travel on. For the first time in all these years since he had lost his wife and decided that he and Kevin would take to the road, he was feeling really weary. He constantly looked over his shoulder, he never knew what they would encounter up ahead and fear nagged at him that something would happen that he could not protect Em and Kevin and Cissy from...those worries weighed heavy on his heart. The people of Unity and a few other places they had visited were living fairly normal lives. At least, normal for this After world. He passionately longed for that version of normal.

  There was a six foot adobe wall at the address of the letter on Garcia Street. Vines covered the walls, now brown with winter. A heavy wooden door was, of course, locked. Jeff pounded on the door and called out, “Lauren Greenlee? I have a letter for Lauren Greenlee, is anyone there?” There was no answer.

  “Mam, the man at the church told me where you lived,” he slid the letter under the big gate.

  There was a rustling sound on the other side of the gate and then a strong female voice said, “Who are you?”

  He thought he saw a tiny peep hole, he bent down and looked towards it, “My name is Jeff. I have my wife and two children with me. I have had the letter for over a year, I got it from a woman in Utah.”

  The voice said, “Go around the block to the alley. Bring your wagon and family to the rear gates please and I will let you in.”

  Jeff guided the donkeys around the mostly deserted houses and up the small dirt alleyway. He once again saw the tall adobe wall with two wide wooden gates. It took a while but the gates swung open, he guided the wagon inside a large courtyard. An elderly lady, her gray hair in a braid that was twisted up on her head, wore a brightly colored loose fitting dress with a poncho over her shoulders and boots on her feet, she moved slowly to close the heavy gates.

  He jumped off of the wagon to help her, they closed the wooden barriers and there was a heavy timber that dropped across the doors into a metal bracket. “I am Lauren,” she said and looked up at the family on the wagon, “Come along, follow me.�
�� A low boxy house stood before them, with a good deal of the stucco chipping away and rotting wooden posts protruding out from near the top at intervals. Inside, a small fire burned in an arched fireplace. There was still pretty good light from a large window in the front of the open room. The room was full, cluttered, paintings stood all around the walls and one large canvas on an easel. There was the smell of paints and on a round table in the corner, supplies that looked like jewelry pieces scattered. A lantern and a magnifying glass on a stand sat amidst the baubles. Next to the lantern, a large old pistol lay.

  The four stood in a tight huddle, looked around with fascination. “Sorry, not much company,” said the woman.

  Jeff said, “I need to give the donkeys some water. We have a bit of coffee, it's not the freshest but still good. Would you like me to bring some in?”

  “Coffee would be nice,” she said with a slight smile on her wrinkled face. She looked at Kevin, “Son, would you bring some of those wooden chairs from the kitchen?” She eased down into a rickety rocking chair.

  Cissy and Kevin brought four brightly painted wooden chairs from the adjoining kitchen. Jeff returned with their campfire coffee pot and a little coffee. They fixed the pot and put it over the fire. Lauren told Emily to bring the big pottery lidded jar from the kitchen and they helped themselves to cinnamon coated triangles of tortilla. The woman took the letter from a pocket and looked at it. She straightened small glasses that sat on her face at an odd angle and removed a couple of pages of faded writing. She squinted at the letter for a moment more and asked Emily if she would read it for her.

  Emily, in a soft voice, read the letter that began with My dearest darling Lauren and ended with My eternal love, your devoted husband. Tears streamed down the deep creases in the aged lady's face, she rested her head against the back of the chair and very gently rocked. They just sat in silence and let the woman have a moment.