The trip was only supposed to take a matter of days, but on foot, he realized, it was going to take considerably longer. Plus he was now exposed and vulnerable. He had a map and a compass, and lucky for him, he knew how to navigate. His friend, Joey, an avid hunter, had purchased a small cabin in the mountains a few years ago. They would meet up, drink, hunt, and visit the town of Gatlinburg, just below the mountains. The visits had become less frequent over the years, as Joey married his long-time girlfriend, Rebecca. Jeremy lost contact with them as he did many of his friends over the years. Part of it was shame. Shame that he hadn’t pursued his ambitions, seeing the high hopes his friends and family had of him diminished once he settled into his job as a member of the school custodial staff.
Despite their waning distance, Jeremy reached out to Joey one last time, asking him about the cabin.
“Of course, Jeremy. Like I said, you can visit that cabin anytime you want. Just give Rebecca and me a heads-up, in case we’re up there.” By that, Jeremy felt the implication meant that he was welcomed at the cabin as long as they weren’t there. He sensed that Rebecca didn’t care for him too much. She was very protective of Joey and her disingenuous smile and feigned interest in Jeremy sent mixed signals. Joey always had reasons why he could never hang out, but most of the time it just felt like cover for Rebecca. After Joey declined an invitation to go to a Steeler’s game, Jeremy flat-out asked him if Rebecca was involved in the decision. “Is it Rebecca?” he asked. “Yeah, she’s kind of hard to reason with sometimes,” Joey said, scratching his head on the other end of the line. So Jeremy stopped asking.
Not having a cell phone also played a big part in losing contact with people. As he walked down the road, searching for a town where he might be able to set-up camp for the night, and talk with people, questions entered his mind: Why did he feel the need to survive this? Was his life even worth living? He quickly told himself, “Yes, it was.” He was going to prove to himself that he could survive, that he did have a life worth living. And no one was going to get in the way, whatsoever.
That Thursday, it grew incredibly hot. The lack of humidity helped, but the sun was merciless. Fortunately, Jeremy donned a boonie hat which provided some much needed shade. His sunglasses helped too. He had also applied a fair amount of sunblock earlier in the morning. His mother would have been proud. With his best hiking boots on, he walked down the deserted two-lane road leading out of Charleston. He washed his clothes from the previous day in a nearby creek. Rodney’s blood had caked onto the fabric pretty well, but Jeremy did the best he could. He now wore shorts and a clean T-shirt. Overall, he had the appearance of a hiker. He walked down the road with his Bug-out bag over his shoulder, resting on his back. The two rifles were concealed in a zip-bag carrying tote, that he had slung over his neck and dangling in front of his chest. It wasn’t difficult to determine what he had in the carrying tote, as the shape of the bag itself looked like a weapon case. But it was better than carrying them out in the open. Between all of his equipment, one of the most important items to him included his pace counting beads. Every so often he would move a bead down the small nylon string that hung on his Bug-out bag. This indicated a mile. There were ten beads total, so by the time they were all resting at the bottom of the string, he could estimate that he had traveled ten miles.
“When was the last time I even walked a mile?” Jeremy asked himself once the reality of the distance sunk in. It was true. He was already getting tired. His canteen was nearly empty, and though he had packed two more, he doubted that he would make it much further without more rest. Part of the problem was that he traveled through the woods to avoid Bill’s convenience store. The route around the store, according to the map, was minimal, but Jeremy had found himself in the woods for hours. It was at that point that he set pitched a tent and called it a night. Now he was back on the road. How great it would be to talk to someone. To find out exactly what was going on. Or to find a town that had power, and working cars, and television and news. His desire to embrace all those things taken for granted by civilized people grew stronger with each bead moved to the end of the string. Jeremy shifted to the side of the road and sat in the shade, using his Bug-out bag as a back rest. He pulled out his map to mark his location and estimate the remaining distance. Suddenly, like a mirage at the top of the road, alongside the forest, he saw several large vehicles in motion.
The engine roar of the vehicles was unmistakable. They were indeed not figments of Jeremy’s imagination. He slowly rose from his comfortable spot on the side of the road to get a better look at the approaching spectacle. They were moving fast, but still remained at a great distance. Jeremy searched through his bag and found a pair of small binoculars. His heart was raced with anticipation. These were the first mobile vehicles he had seen in nearly a day. Perhaps there was hope after all. Jeremy removed his sunglasses and held the binoculars to his eyes. He saw three large military trucks in a single line, moving down the street. They were armored 5-ton 6x6 trucks—dark, olive green colored—with a tarp-covered rear. There was no telling of how many people, or soldiers, were located in each truck. Feeling a tad hopeless in his own quest, Jeremy jumped at the chance to receive assistance. He knew these trucks. They were some of the same trucks he worked on as a military mechanic. As a knowledgeable veteran, he could assist them with repairs if they took him with them. It was the military code of honor; once a soldier, always a soldier. Jeremy stood on the right side of the road and waited for the trucks come. He would flag them down and find out what was going on.
As they neared Jeremy set his rifle tote next to his Bug-out bag and stood in the right lane of the road. The trucks were only a half-mile away. Jeremy waved his arms in the air, flagging them down. He could see inside the first truck. There were three uniformed Army soldiers sitting inside. Jeremy waved some more. “Hey!” he said, with a large smile across his face. He felt as though they were coming to rescue him. Maybe this was the plan all along. “Hey!” he called out again. The first truck showed no signs of slowing down. Instead, it was quite the opposite. Jeremy’s smile dropped, as the truck came at him with no concern of his presence. A deafening horn blasted from the lead truck. Its sound shook Jeremy to the core. He covered his ears, but remained standing blankly in the road. “They’re not stopping,” he said. Jeremy waved his arms again. The truck continued its speed as the horn sounded again. “Stop!” Jeremy shouted. “I need help!” Purely by survivalist instinct, Jeremy jumped to the side of the road to avoid the oncoming truck. He rolled onto the dirt as all three trucks blared past. Jeremy struggled to his feet and watched as the trucks continued down the road past him. He was visibly shaken and a little scuffed up from the fall. But what he felt most was confusion. “Why didn’t they stop?” he thought. “I’m a veteran, dammit,” Jeremy said. “I’m a veteran!” he shouted to the trucks long gone.
Seeing the trucks meant that there were indeed vehicles that were still operational. It also meant that the military was getting involved with what was going on. Jeremy leaned against his Bug-out bag and examined the map carefully. He had hundreds of miles to go. He estimated it as four hundred miles. “Four hundred miles on foot is impossible,” Jeremy said looking up from his map. He placed his sunglasses over his eyes, folded his map, and rose from his feet, with his bag over his shoulders. He picked up his rifle tote—possibly the most important commodity he had—and marched on. Now, he believed, the military was another thing in a long line of things that had turned their back on him. He had truly been left to fend for himself at this point. What he needed now, was a vehicle, any vehicle. That was his next conquest. That and whatever else he could get his hands on.
After a short rest, after five miles of walking, Jeremy resumed his trip. Several houses were in the distance. He was nearing a town, which for the most part meant that he had no idea what to expect. He came across a few vehicles before reaching the town, but they were deserted and inoperable. Jeremy tried each one of them. Even without keys he t
ried to hotwire them, but failed to ignite any spark that would start the vehicle. Now he was close to a town. He hadn’t seen a single moving vehicle since the Army trucks that had nearly ran him over. A small cottage-type house was on his left. An old man, clean shaven, with slick, white hair, sat on his porch, rocking back-and-forth.
“Hi there,” Jeremy said with a wave.
“Hi,” the old man said.
“You got power?” Jeremy asked.
“We ain’t got nothing. Phones don’t even work,” the man replied.
“How about your car?”
“That was the first thing I tried. The old Dodge is deader than a doornail,” he said.
The Dodge station wagon the man spoke of was parked in the yard, with the hood opened.
“You talk to anyone else?”
“Yeah, everyone has the same problem. No power. No nothing,” he said.
“Any police? Any military?”
“I seen a few. A couple trucks here and there. No one else though.”
“So they had working trucks?”
“Yep,” the man said with his steady rocking.
And so the conversations went with each townsperson. Jeremy was able to get some food and water replenished, but no real answers to anything. The attitude of most of the townspeople was to wait it out. Some of elderly among them didn’t have television or computers to begin with, so the loss of those items wasn’t that great in the first place. Jeremy went through the town and ended up back on the open road. It winded in some areas and in others went straight as far as the eye could see. Jeremy needed a vehicle, that was all there was too it. He wasn’t going to end his journey in some town in West Virginia among the elderly. His place was in Tennessee. He made a decision, brought on mainly be his exhaustion, that he was going to stop the next truck that came passed him, military or not. Though he was armed, he was pretty sure taking a truck of soldiers was a risky endeavor, so he put the thought out of his mind. “I’m taking a vehicle from someone though,” he said.
According to his map and his pace count, he was almost out of West Virginia. He came across a few county stores along the way, but they were closed. The lonely eeriness of the trip started to get to him. Abandoned cars were frequent, and now abandoned stores. It was like the world took the day off. Jeremy was growing delirious. He grew wary of the constant chirping of the birds above. The silence of and calmness of the road was irritating in itself. The endless clamoring of crickets was enough to drive one mad. Jeremy squinted to see two blurry figures about a half mile ahead of him. His paced quickened when he saw that it was people—two people—walking alongside each other with backpacks over their shoulders. Jeremy couldn’t quite reach them and they remained ahead of him at least by a half mile. He started to jog. The bag dug into his back, rubbing against bruises already formed. He took a large swig of his canteen and kept moving. He was almost on them.
As Jeremy approached, a young man and woman turned around slightly concerned. They looked like college kids, early twenties. They both were dressed for the heat: shorts, T-shirt, sunglasses, and hat. They looked as if they were going on a hike.
“Hey,” Jeremy called out between heavy breathing.
The couple slowed and came to a stop.
“Hey,” the man said.
“I’m Jeremy,” Jeremy said, extending his arm. The man shook it.
“Hi, I’m Seth,” the man said.
The woman nodded her head, and avoided direct eye contact with Jeremy.
Jeremy pulled at the straps of his Bug-out bag with his thumbs and rocked back-and-forth on his heels.
“So, I take it you guys are on foot too?” he asked.
“Yeah, funny enough, we actually had planned on going hiking today, but our car broke down yesterday. We’ve been trying to get back to our lodge for the past day.”
“Holy shit,” Jeremy said. “Did you get any rest?”
“Yeah. A nice couple let us stay in their house for the night. I can’t believe how nice everyone is around here.”
“It’s really something, isn’t it?” Jeremy said.
“So where are you headed?” Seth asked.
“Like you guys, I’m just trying to get home. My truck broke down yesterday also. It’s like some kind of bomb took out the power grid. But you know what’s strange? Three military trucks passed me a few hours ago. Now why do they have working trucks? What’s really going on?”
Jeremy ended his rant once he noticed that the couple was simply nodding along, with little interest in what he was saying. They were trying to conceal their worry with half-hearted smiles. “Am I really that scary?” Jeremy thought. He rubbed his face and felt the stubble of a growing beard. Plus he had several bumps that had formed as a result of his fight with Rodney. Did he still have blood on him? Was that what they were looking at?
Jeremy made a decision then and there. He unzipped his tote bag and pulled his lightweight 5.56mm rifle from its pouch. “Put your hands in the air,” he demanded. The woman screamed. “Shut your mouth, or I’ll pull the trigger,” Jeremy said. The couple looked each other in mutual fear and confusion. They raised their arms in the air. “Okay,” Jeremy continued. “This is what I want. Take you packs off and dump them on the ground. Everything.” He pointed his rifle in their direction, wavering between Seth and the woman.
“Please. Just don’t hurt us,” Seth said.
“Do what I say and I won’t,” Jeremy said.
The girl was shaking. Both of them slowly lifted their back packs from their shoulder and placed them on the ground. “Dump them out, like I said,” Jeremy ordered.
The girl was sniffling. Seth looked like he was on autopilot. They unzipped their bags and dumped them onto the pavement. “Now empty your pockets into the same pile,” Jeremy said.
“Listen, we can talk this out?” Seth said.
Jeremy pointed the rifle in his face. “Shut up and empty your pockets. Okay, asshole?”
Seth backed away slightly and flinched. He looked his companion and nodded. They both took their wallet, keys, and cell phone from their pocket.
“Hey, do those cell phones work?” Jeremy asked in an excited tone.
“No,” Seth said. “They’re completely dead.”
Jeremy thought to himself for a moment and observed the nervous couple in front of him.
“This is what you’re going to do if you don’t want to get shot. Go into the woods over there and stand against the tree. I don’t want to see anything but your backs. You stay there for ten minutes. Not a second sooner. Then after those ten minutes you can ramble on.”
The couple remained silent, all but the sniffling of the woman. “But—” the man began.
“Just start moving. I don’t want to hear a single fucking word. Remember, ten minutes. Don’t try me.” Seth held the woman by the arm. They walked together into the woods to the nearest tree and stood there. “Further!” Jeremy shouted.
They moved from the tree and went further into the woods as instructed. Once they were out of range and facing a tree, Jeremy leaned down to search through their belongings. He grabbed their cell phones, cash, power bars, canteens, trail mix, and whatever else he could stuff into his bag. After stocking up Jeremy proceeded down the road, with one last look at the frightened couple. They were still facing the tree. “Ten minutes starts now!” he shouted and then he was off.
“This was how it’s going to be,” Jeremy told as he jogged down the road. It’s me against them. Soon enough, he believed that he would find a car that worked. Then he’d be that much closer to Tennessee.
Chapter 7: Tobias Makes New Friends
Tobias felt doomed after being left in the woods. It was getting dark too damn fast, and the woods were no place for an injured and helpless boy to be. After about twenty minutes of feeling sorry for himself, Tobias attempted to stand on his own and walk. Although he thought he broke his leg, it was more or less severely twisted. He had pulled some muscles without a doubt, but it wasn’t
enough to completely cripple him. He pushed himself up with his arms and rose from the ground. His bad leg was awkwardly tied to Brian’s makeshift splint. It stuck straight out and as he stood up on one leg. He wondered how he was going to get his bad leg up. Every movement he made brought pain, and it intensified the more he stood up from the ground. He feared even putting the slightest amount of pressure on his leg. He feared that it would snap in half. He was weak, wary, sick, and fragile. But aside from all this, he grew determined to get out of the darkening woods with or without Brian.
He grabbed a large stick for balance and proceeded to fully stand. Immense pressure and pain rushed throughout his injured leg. He had never felt anything like it. He hopped forward, one hand on the stick, one hand in the air, and his bad leg dangling. One single step forward was exhausting. He breathed rapidly, preparing for his next step. He hopped once again. A pain stung deep within his leg, further exhausting him. Tobias looked ahead. He had to choose between hoping back the way they came—or hoping in the direction he thought led home. Both ways seemed doomed.
“Help!” Tobias called out. At this point he didn’t care whose attention he attracted. He just wanted to know that he wasn’t on his own. Another hop forward and he tumbled over and fell onto the ground. The pain of hitting the ground started right at his bad leg and traveled throughout his body. Tobias screamed in agony and then started to cry. It was hopeless. He would never get far on his own. “Brian, I hate you!” he said between clenched teeth. He sobbed endlessly for over five minutes, digging his fingers into the mulch and dirt below. Then someone approached him. “What are you doing out here, son?” a man’s voice said.
The End Boxset: Postapocalyptic Visions of an Unstoppable Collapse Page 22