Return (End Times Alaska Book 3)

by Craig Martelle

  Together, we were well-armed. I pulled the rifle out of its case and walked back to the middle of the road so the flustered engineers could see and feel my displeasure. The two young men cheered when the last bag they checked contained their errant documents. They pumped their fists and smiled, until they saw me not a hundred feet away. I resisted the temptation to aim my rifle at them.

  I was no threat to them, but they would be in danger soon enough.

  After watering the dogs and giving them a short rest, Abigail suggested we could cover one hundred miles that day, putting us not far outside of Tok. Between Abigail and Phillip, we had two experts watching the dogs, making sure they were safe and healthy.

  Phillip had been raised in a kennel and knew dogs. He’d been studying to be a veterinarian, but wouldn’t leave the kennel when his parents moved away. We couldn’t ask for someone with us who knew more about the animals.

  The twins were like sponges, watching everything the dog mushers did. They watched, and they learned. Maybe they wanted to be veterinarians.

  Ben and Clarisse were enjoying the ride. This was more like a summer drive for them. For us, too, I had to admit. The two engineers kept to themselves. They’d already failed to fly below the radar. I pointed to my eyes with two fingers and then pointed at them. “I’m watching you,” I mouthed.

  Madison rolled her eyes. “Stop terrorizing the children,” she told me as I climbed into the driver’s seat.

  “They’re going to do something to piss me off, and I’m going to have to take their quad away, make them walk all the way back to Canada,” I said with a hint of anger.

  “No you’re not. You are going to make sure those two assimilate and contribute, even if you have to hold their hands. Remember the part where we have to have a larger settlement whenever the accounting happens? That means we need everyone we have and hundreds more. Now that we’re here, no one gets to leave,” she said calmly but firmly.

  She had a point.

  BEARS

  We’d been back in Alaska for a total of four hours and we were pushing hard. The mountains would be behind us soon, leaving us an open run down a long valley toward Tok. Once in the open and on a smooth decline, we should be able to make record time, assuming the brakes held up on the wheeled sleds. I squirmed uncomfortably in my seat as the twins mushed by, hanging on for dear life as they were thrown around in the rickety contraptions flying behind the dogs.

  Dog tongues lolling, they raced ahead. Clouds filled the sky, and the air cooled. We took care passing the dogs and mushers as we raced ahead. I believed we would make good time.

  Until we saw the bears. No mothers on earth want a pack of strangers between them and their babies. This grizzly sow was no exception. As we drove, Abigail not far behind, we glimpsed the bear coming into the road milliseconds before she rammed into our quad. I gunned it when we were thrown up on two wheels.

  Our ride was slow to respond. The bear stood and swiped the side of the quad as it came back to the ground. Madison screamed as she tried to throw herself out of the way.

  She was belted in and didn’t get far. The bear’s claws raked her seat, catching her shoulder. I saw her wince as I wrestled with the wheel to turn the quad away from the massive beast. When the wheels hit the ground, they spun, lurching us forward. The edge of the trailer hit the bear’s front leg as it powered past. She almost fell into the snow machine, but stayed upright until we were past. I ran the quad forward until I was sure the bear wasn’t following, then slammed on the brakes.

  “Are you okay?” I asked Madison while trying to pull my rifle from its case.

  “No. It burns!” she stammered. I couldn’t see the wound from where I was. I unbuckled my seat belt and leaned forward. The tear in her jacket was bad, but the injury itself didn’t look deep.

  “Wait here,” I said, trying to sound calm. Jumping out, I aimed the rifle back up the road, but the bear was gone. I jogged a few steps, breathing quickly, but fully. I ran farther up the road as Abigail tried to slow her dogs, but I waved her on. “Keep going, a bear, but she’s gone now,” I yelled as her team ran past. The dogs were alert as the bear scent must have been overwhelming, and they started running out of sync.

  “Ha!” Abigail yelled, encouraging them to run through it. I stayed at the side of the road, aiming toward the brush where the bear had disappeared. I listened, but could only hear the next team coming, Charles with Aeryn close behind. Next up was Chris and Colleen.

  “Madison needs you!” I yelled and Chris immediately responded, trying to slow the dogs down. He wasn’t able to stop the wheeled sled until he was fifty yards past the quad. Colleen handed Hermione to Chris as she grabbed her medical kit and ran to see Madison.

  I was relieved at the look on Colleen’s face. She gave me a thumbs up, all is well, as she pulled something from her kit and started dabbing it on the wound.

  The other quads arrived. I asked Ben to run ahead and get in front of Abigail. He nodded confidently as he patted his well-used shotgun in the case at his side. That gave me comfort. He was a man who wasn’t afraid of what Alaska threw at him.

  The engineers wanted to know the whole story. Grabbing Cullen’s collar, I pulled his face toward mine. “Get up there and keep an eye on my kids,” I snarled. “I’ll owe you.” I let go and he nodded before racing down the road past our quad and Chris’ dog team.

  When Phillip went by, I waved to him and told him to keep his eye out for bears. He also carried a hunting rifle. I didn’t know what kind, but I was certain his dogs had dined on moose on more than one occasion.

  Colleen only had to clean out the wound and apply antiseptic. Between the roll bar, the seatbelt, and the seat itself, the claws hadn’t gone more than skin deep. With the injury cleaned, it only looked like a bad scratch, almost a rug burn. I breathed a sigh of relief. After flexing her shoulder and rotating her arm, Madison was happy that the wound was minor. She hung her head toward her lap and became pale. I tried to pull her close to me, but the quad’s seats weren’t made for that. I held her hand instead. The come-down after an adrenaline rush weighed on her. She shivered, although it wasn’t that cold outside.

  “Let’s go check on the twins, make sure they’re okay,” I said, trying to give her something else to think about. As with the mother bear, we now had a bunch of people between Madison and her children. Most were family, but Charles and Aeryn would always be our responsibility.

  I started the quad, hoping that it wasn’t damaged, and listened closely for strange noises as we moved out. There was a squeak in the back, so I stopped and got out, looking around for any sign that the bear had returned.

  Chris continued to rock Diane, while they watched us to make sure everything was okay.

  I found the trailer hitch was bent. Driving on two wheels while towing a heavy trailer is not recommended. I was sure that was in a user’s manual somewhere. I had my “shopping” tools with me and with a few loud adjustments, using the sledgehammer, the bar straightened sufficiently. At our next break, we’d look more closely to see if it needed more attention. I could always hit it a few more times with the sledgehammer.

  We do as we have to. I secured my tools, and we waved Chris forward. Once we were moving again, we were able to maintain fifteen miles an hour, the speed of the dogs running downhill. We caught up to the group at a pullout not far from the valley.

  TANACROSS

  We stayed the second night in Chicken, but we covered seventy-five miles that day. The next day we made it Tok, but it was still early, so we continued the road to Tanacross. We found that the smaller communities were better equipped for long-term survival. They had more canned goods in their cupboards, and their homes were more inclined toward life without electricity or water.

  There was tent space enough for all twenty-two in the Community. We rallied at a house with an oversized shed where the dogs would be most
comfortable. The dogs were our means of transportation. As we saw with the damage the bear caused to our trailer, it wouldn’t take much and we’d be fully dependent on the paws of our furry friends for all of our transportation needs.

  It was warm and sunny; welcome to nighttime during an Alaskan summer. We still made a fire, counting on the smoke to chase the mosquitoes away. We’d use it to heat water and rehydrate our travel rations.

  Ben looked at them in disgust. He told us that if he could spend a couple hours hunting, we’d have a decent meal.

  “Soon, Ben, soon,” I said, nodding. “I know and agree, this stuff is garbage. I can’t wait until we have some moose on the grill, maybe even salmon. Wild vegetables and rhubarb, birch syrup and berries. There’s a whole gourmet out there with our names on it!”

  Clarisse grabbed Ben’s arm and bobbed in delight. Jo changed places with Colleen, so she could sit next to Clarisse. We’d gone through the introductions many times, but as we got closer to our new home, each of us explored the strengths of our new companions. Jo was the Community’s chef and it looked like Clarisse could be an incredible addition to the kitchen as well as filling the role of our stand-in mother. We didn’t know if she’d snap a towel at someone who didn’t wash their hands before eating, but I was sure that she had some way of enforcing her rules.

  Darren and Becca sat on the ground next to Ben and started talking to him about their experience hunting moose. Darren got up and walked away, shortly returning with his 300 Win mag rifle, with the bolt open to show that it was unloaded.

  Ben caressed it lovingly, appreciating its clean lines and raw power. He handed it back and shared his shotgun. It looked like an old friend, the wood stock checkered with scratches and stained dark from the sweat of its owner.

  The engineers looked on from the other side of the fire. They were unarmed, although they should have carried weapons. We never knew what we might run across or who would have to fight back if wolves showed up. I strolled in their direction, trying not to be obvious that I wanted to talk with them. They’d grow quiet when either Chris or I was around.

  I gave up trying to act casually and walked straight at them, taking a knee so I could speak at their level. Looking down on them while I talked wouldn’t accomplish what Madison had insisted I do and that was to make them feel like they were equal members of the Community.

  “The other day, I asked you guys to watch over the twins while we were dealing with the aftermath of momma bear. I didn’t say thank you, and that was wrong. I appreciate you staying close to them.” I smiled and they nodded abruptly. “That also tells me you need some kind of weapon. Just in case.” I offered my hand. They hesitated before they each took it.

  Even the smallest of progress was progress.

  “I’ve never fired a gun,” Cullen said. Shane shook his head with an I-don’t-know expression on his face.

  “We can fix that. We’ll find you something you can use, even if you only use it as a noisemaker. You won’t need to hunt; we already have plenty of hunters. With this many people and dogs? I think we’ll need five or six moose every year, but we’ll be the only ones hunting. Ben will make sure we add plenty of fish as well. Do you guys fish?” More shrugs. I could feel my blood pressure rising.

  “What’s your plan when we get where we’re going?” I asked. I hadn’t intended to get in their faces, but it wouldn’t be long before everyone had jobs to do. I wanted to know how they were going to contribute, and I had yet to get a straight answer.

  “We intend to build a power plant. We have designs for geothermal, wind, water, and steam with us. We will build a plant using equipment and materials and should be available to bring power back to a limited grid.” They both brightened as Shane described their strategic objective.

  “How long will it take you to decide what you can build and then how long do you think it will take you to build it?” I asked, instantly skeptical of their grand plan.

  “It won’t take long to figure out what we can build as it will depend on what we find of the remaining infrastructure. Wire, transformers, and things like that should still be there, right?” I nodded, and he continued, “Then we’ll be able to get right into it. With twenty people, the work should go quickly.” That’s what I was waiting for.

  “No problem at all, I can guarantee that you’ll have yourselves as manpower, and then maybe two more to help you each day. It’s halfway through the summer and we have to get ready for the winter. Do you know how much provisioning we have to do for this many people and nearly a hundred dogs? I hope we don’t have to work too many sixteen-hour days, but I expect that will be the norm from here until the first snow. And then we’ll work twelve hours. Look at what we might want to do as winter work – detailed indoor stuff that will be time-consuming. We will have nothing but time when it gets cold.” I’d upset their plans, but they were engineers. They’d go back to the drawing board and come up with a new plan.

  They’ll figure it out or maybe we will have to feed them to the bears, I thought.

  THE ACCIDENT

  There’s nothing like the open road to wear a person down. The dogs kept running. The only problem for them was the heat. With streams paralleling the road, we always had a ready source of water. Knowing that humans hadn’t contaminated it over the last four years, we all drank readily from the crystal-clear water. To stay together, we decided to run the quads slowly, barely more than idle speed which was enough to keep pace with the dog teams.

  Since I was leading the parade, I had the opportunity to race ahead, scout the road, then drive back. It’s exactly what I did on our run out of Alaska in the first place. It worked then so there was no reason to change it.

  Although in retrospect, I should have.

  As Madison and I were driving back to the group following one of our look-aheads, we were surprised to see that the teams were stopped. We slowly passed the barking dogs. Neither the dog mushers nor their passengers were anywhere to be seen. We continued past the twins’ sleds and grew concerned as they weren’t with their teams either.

  I swung wide around the teams and accelerated, hitting the brakes hard as soon as I rounded the corner. Everyone was together, with some in the ditch working on an overturned quad.

  The engineers had gone over the edge.

  We slid to a stop, scattering those who were standing on the road, although I don’t think it was as close as they thought it was. Chris and Colleen were both in the ditch while Charles held Hermione and Aeryn cooed to the baby to help her calm down.

  “They were both talking, but we don’t know how they are. Chris is working to get them out and Colleen has her medical kit. Ben is down there, too,” Charles said, concern in his voice, but not panic. They shouldn’t have been that mature for six-year-olds, but they were.

  I crawled over the edge of the ravine, helping Madison down with me. All the men were there along with Colleen.

  “What do you need us to do, Chris?” I asked as he stood back, looking from the quad to the trees.

  “It’s holding them both in as it’s wedged between these rocks. We need to lift it up to use the winch on your quad. I was thinking we can throw ropes over these trees here.” Chris pointed to one heavy branch overhead and a smaller one to the side. “We hoist it enough to relieve the pressure and get those two out, then drag the quad up the hill, see what we can salvage.”

  The two young men were yelling hysterically. Cullen seemed to think he was hurt badly judging by the amount of noise he was making. Colleen yelled at him to shut up as they weren’t helping. Shane seemed to take that as a challenge and stepped up his screams for help.

  “Rope!” I yelled, but they’d already thrown it to us. We tied it off, letting Ben make sure the knots would hold. Then we braced ourselves and started pulling, but it wouldn’t move. We dug around underneath and found one of the roll bars wedged into a rock as if it were
an anchor. Little Bill bugled something from the road as if he were a cow moose in heat. Becca picked him up and carried him off.

  “Hacksaw!” I yelled. It took Clarisse a few moments to dig one out of Ben’s supplies. While we waited, I tried to engage the engineers. I didn’t think Shane was hurt, but he was panicking and kept yelling for help, despite our assurances that everyone who could help was already there. Chris pulled me back from the opening before I punched the young man. Instead, Chris reached in and grabbed a handful of hair, pulling it until Shane’s head was twisted at an awkward angle.

  “I think the man asked nicely for you to stop yelling. You need to shut up and let us get you out of there.” Chris emphasized his point with an extra tug on Shane’s hair. Wide eyes held Chris’ for a second, and then he started yelling again. Chris let go, then with a motion too quick to follow, he punched the young engineer in the side of the head.

  The screaming stopped. The hacksaw arrived, and I crawled to the side of the quad and started cutting on the roll bar. It was made of sturdy material so we all took turns. Saw for a minute then hand off. The blade was hot enough to start a fire when we finished. With the last cut, the quad lurched, settling heavier on its top.

  We rallied to pull the machine from where it was wedged. The doors were twisted and wouldn’t open, but there was room through the windows. We cut away the canvas strapping and while extra hands held Shane in place, we cut his seatbelt. We guided him through the window opening and he was out. Colleen took him aside while we did the same for Cullen. His left arm was clearly broken and would present a problem in working him out the door.

  With Shane out of the vehicle, Cullen calmed down and we were able to talk with him. He thought his leg might be broken, too. His chest hurt, and he didn’t know why. He couldn’t see because of the blood in his eyes from the gash on his head. But he was talking.