Will of Man - Part Two

by William Scanlan

  Competition triathlon wetsuits are allowed to be up to five millimeters thick. Dad always spent the extra money to make sure we had the best wetsuits for racing. Not only could we still swim in open water in mid October, they also made us very buoyant. More buoyancy meant faster speeds in the swim phase of our triathlons.

  Anyways, we were setting up our gear inside the ice shanty when we heard a cracking sound. The sound of ice cracking is not uncommon when ice fishing and we didn’t pay much attention to it.

  But within seconds the shanty, with us in it, fell through the weak ice. Dad tried to open the door but it was blocked by surrounding ice. The shanty was constructed so the door swung to the outside and couldn’t open to the inside.

  With the door wedged and unable to open, we couldn’t get out. We were trapped! The shanty didn’t sink fast, but very slow. Dad got a really worried look on his face after trying unsuccessfully to break out. I could see his face from the light shining up through the hole in the ice.

  The water was around ten feet deep. I could hear air escaping the shanty and feel the shanty sinking slowly under the ice. The water was entering slowly but consistently. I lost my breath and began hyperventilating once the frigid water hit my waist.

  Dad tried to calm me but was also looking for a way to get out. The shanty was too well built to break out. The only way out was out the hole in the floor that led to the water underneath. However, once we swam out the hole, there was nowhere to go since the shanty was blocking our way to the surface.

  Dad peeked out a small hole in the shanty and saw another shanty about twenty yards away. He told me he was going to make a dash for the other shanty under the water. I yelled at him to forget about it. He said it was our only chance.

  Dad stuck his head under the water for a few seconds and came back up. He did it two more times. I knew what he was doing. He acclimated himself to the water. Triathletes do this when swimming in cold water. If you jump into water without acclimating first, your body reacts by hyperventilating, your lungs instantly burn, your muscles contract, and you are forced to come up for air.

  After acclimating and without saying anything, Dad took the plunge and disappeared into the hazy water. I know Dad was a skilled swimmer, but that was a long ways to go under frigid water wearing all his clothes.

  It seemed like forever before I finally heard Dad yell out that he had made it. I so relieved. Dad quickly ran from the nearby shanty carrying an ice spud (a tool for cutting holes in the ice) he found inside the shanty.

  By now the water was nearing my chin and I was getting really scared. Dad began hacking away at the shanty with the ice spud. He kept yelling for me to talk to him so he could tell where I was and that I was ok.

  He was making a hole but also pushing the shanty deeper with each strike. Soon the shanty was under water along with me. I took my final deep breath and contemplated making the same swim Dad did.

  Fortunately Dad reached into the hole he made and grabbed me. He pulled me out fast and dragged me away from the sinking shanty. He hugged and squeezed me for a long time.

  We grabbed what gear we could and slid ourselves to the edge of the lake. Dad’s friend lived not too far from the lake so we walked there to tell him about the shanty and to get warm.

  Dad’s friend was glad we were safe and gave us a ride back home with his horse and buggy. I never was so happy to see my house. That is one story Dad and I will tell for a long time.

  Tyler’s Journal Entry: 351

  Date: May 13

  Day: WEDNESDAY

  Weather: Sunny and Warm

  Days Since the LAST DAY: 2yrs, 10 months, 12 days

  The ROAMERS arrived in the afternoon. I was working in the family garden near the edge of our property along the pines my dad had planted our first year here.

  We have the biggest house on the road (however, there are only 3 homes on our street). The home on the end has been long since abandoned. We live in the country perched in the middle of a farmer’s field. It's quiet and very secluded. But we like it that way.

  On this cloudless day in May, they attacked the neighboring town of Bath (about thirty miles west). Bath is a small farming community with a current population of around 200 people. The ROAMERS stormed the school building which was also doubling as Bath’s City Market. The town’s people meet there every Tuesday to barter and trade, and gather news from abroad.

  Apparently, the ROAMERS attacked, killed many, and stole everything. They were like locust’ consuming everything in their path and leaving nothing. It was only a matter of time before they spread to my small town.

  When Dad heard the news from our neighbor Sam, he got very worried. My mom called me in and had me sit for lunch. It was hard to finish my lunch because I wanted to go to town, to find out more. I wanted to hear what was going on - but mostly I found it to be very exciting.

  I was not frightened, just terribly interested in what was happening. The ROAMERS were a small but growing army. They originated from the larger cities like Detroit, Chicago, and Indianapolis. Soon after what many called the LAST DAY and the end of civilization as we knew it, the people in the larger cities used up all their resources, which was primarily food and supplies from local grocery stores. Many didn’t have the knowledge of how to live off the land and hunt. And even if they did, there are no animals to hunt and little land to grow food.

  Some tried to start gardens with the patches of land available, but desperation prevailed over camaraderie and people began raiding each other’s gardens to feed themselves or their families. The cities fell into chaos and horrible things happened.

  Dad heard a man named Lockheed began organizing the people within the cities and bringing order back. His methods unfortunately involved unspeakable violence and tyranny. But it worked - and this was the beginning of the ROAMERS.

  They stay alive by raiding and plundering smaller towns and cities -taking everything as they pass through. At one point their numbers grew to an unsustainable number and they became selective to who could be a part of their murderous piracy. They began weeding out the weak and those considered to be leaches. One would have to earn their way into the army by being the most vicious and warrior like.

  In the early beginnings of the ROAMERS, communities would choose to fight. But the ROAMERS grew too strong and soon weaker communities would bow to their tyranny.

  People across the nation were calling it a civil war, but my dad said it was really a bunch of desperate people (the ROAMERS) acting lawless and attacking those that were surviving in a lawful way.

  The world is in chaos now, but in the country, people are making things work and not at the cost of war. Now the ugliness of desperation has reached us in our quiet little town of Laingsburg - a place where people found a way to survive and help each other while doing it. Laingsburg is a good community.

  The first thing my mother said was, “Tyler, the bad people are close, and there will be no going to town today. You must stay near home. Do you understand?”

  I acknowledged, but couldn’t imagine the ROAMERS actually attacking Laingsburg. It just didn’t seem real to me. I couldn’t imagine anyone being so bad and wanting to hurt people just to take their belongings. It just didn’t make sense.

  Later in the evening when Mom was busy making sure our bags were packed with food, clothes, cooking gear, etc., I ran to Sam’s house to the shed behind his house where we always meet.

  When we were younger, we played there all the time and had created a pretty cool fort up in the rafters, complete with a telescope for spotting spies, and a booby trapped entrance that only Sam and I knew about.

  We would play there pretending to be outlaws hiding from the sheriff who was usually my younger brother Tanner and Sam’s younger brother William.

  Occasionally we allowed Sam’s younger sister Sarah to play. But she would have to play the role of prisoner. Sometimes we’d take sticks and pretend they were guns. We’d pretend to shoot at Sam’s dad as he worked
in their garden. He’d laugh and shoot back saying, “Pow, pow, bang!”

  Today though it didn’t seem like a storybook fort at all. Sam’s dad and a bunch of other townsmen from down the road were gathered around holding weapons of all sorts. There were men with guns, axes, bows, and any other thing they could gather for a weapon.

  They were worked up and looking angry. They spotted us watching and chased us away. Sam’s dad told me to go home.

  Instead, we hid in the trees across the field. We could see people walking down the road towards Sam’s house where everyone was gathering. They were all chattering and arguing about what to do about the ROAMERS. Some wanted to march to Bath and take them on, others wanted to create a convoy and get away.

  The ones that wanted to get away started to argue about where to go. It sounded like everyone had a different idea. Some said it would be stupid to go south, because that would put them in the path of the ROAMERS.

  Some wanted to go north, others, east, and so on. Some thought north because they figured the ROAMERS come mainly from the city, thus making them “city folk” and not able to survive deep in the country far from their city. Others thought we should go east because there are more resources in that direction as far a food and shelter. And others thought west since there were fewer cities in that direction and thus less possibilities of running into more ROAMERS.

  Sam said he overheard his father say that nothing will be left of Bath. The ROAMERS will take everything.

  I didn’t know if that were true or not, but Sam was kind of a big brother to me since he was two years older. I listened to him and believed most he said. Everyone I respected and look too for guidance was worried and scared. This was no longer an adventure like my triathlons used to be. I began to get a sick feeling in my stomach and feeling panicky.

  I told Sam how my dad looked really worried. How he had his shotgun out cleaning it and packing shotgun shells. I tried to explain to Sam that I think this is more serious than we know.

  Sam said that he'd bet his dad stays and fights.

  I wasn’t sure about my dad. He's no chicken, but I think he would make our safety his number one concern. I was hoping he’d stay with Mom, I, and Tanner - getting us far from here if trouble came.

  At that point Sam’s mom spotted us and yelled at me to get home. She was very stern. She growled, “Don’t you know they could be here at any moment. Sam you need to stick close to us, and Tyler you need to go home to your parents. Now go!”

  I looked in the direction of town. The sky was blue and peaceful, not a cloud in the sky. The birds were chirping and flying by as if nothing were wrong. But I could sense the danger and an overwhelming feeling that this was it – after today I wasn’t going to see Laingsburg again.

  Mom and Dad began packing the wagon. Mom told me to grab what I wanted as long as it could all fit in my backpack. My home life was ending. Everything important to me was in my house and around it. And now I was being forced to leave it all behind.

  I hurried though my home grabbing what was most important to me. I found each decision harder than the next. What should I take? What should I leave behind? I noticed everything in my house as I floated through it.

  I noticed my brother and I’s names scratched in the wall near the furnace in the basement. I looked at our back porch and remembered the times sitting there at night looking at the stars. My first dog was buried at the edge of our yard. There was the hill we use to sled down in the winter.

  All these memories and special places are slipping away as the minutes pass. Will I ever return? What will become of me? What will become of my family? Too much…. Too fast…. I don’t want to leave.

  The silence was broken by a faint BOOM. Nobody knew for sure what it was but we had a good idea – the ROAMERS were done with Bath and heading our way. I suddenly became frightened and ran home to my waiting mom.

  The ROAMERS are a product of the LAST DAY. They are an army created by desperation and lack of morality. They formed in the cities and together they travel across the land raiding small communities unable to protect themselves. Their methods are brutal and lack any mercy. There is no joy when talking about the ROAMERS. They are the source of nightmares and childhood monsters.

  I guess my face must have showed my fear because immediately my mom asked, “Where have you been? This is not the time to be goofing around.” She grabbed me and pulled me in tight. Not in an angry way but a comforting, yet worried way.

  She said, “You need to stay close to your dad and me from now on. We may need to leave soon – very soon.” My mom wore her feelings on her sleeve and I could tell she was scared and upset by the tears welling in her eyes.

  Someone came running to the front door yelling that the ROAMERS were on their way. He informed us that Bath was destroyed and everyone in it.

  He went on to say that two scouts sent by the locals were caught by the ROAMERS. The Ranger allowed one to send Laingsburg a message – surrender or else.

  The ROAMERS tactics were known and that they gave no mercy. The ploy for our surrender was a lie and we all knew what the end result would be when they arrived. There was no use in sending any message back to them. The choice was made to flee. Organizing a convoy was out of the question by now – there was no time. It was every family for themselves.

  I listened to the sorrowful and panicky sound of the man’s voice until my mom gave the man a grimacing look to change his tune. I guess she could sense the man was scaring me.

  She thanked the man for informing us and wished him good luck and to be careful. She turned to me and said, “You’ll be safe if you do what your father and I tell you to do. Don’t leave the house again until you’re told to do so.”

  She was obviously nervous and irritated that Dad was still over at the neighbors. My mom was a worrisome person. She was always telling my brother and me to be careful. She'd tell us to stay out of the trees, chew our food fully so we don’t choke, watch for coyotes in the woods, etc. Always something, so today’s events must have really sent her into worry mode. But today, I was glad to have her watching over us.

  My father returned with a look of determination. I had a lot of questions I wanted to ask, but figured it wasn’t the best time. My mom said for me to keep quiet and let Dad do what he was going to do - whatever that was.

  From what Dad gathered from his meeting at Sam’s house, was we had an hour till the ROAMERS hit town. And then he figured that meant another hour or so till they reached us here in the country. That gave us around two hours to pack what we could and leave.

  I had never seen my dad look so worried – it scared me. He was a third grade school teacher. So that meant a lot of patience and a mild temper. He rarely lost his temper with Tanner and me. But something about his personality made you want to follow his rules. Tanner and I could be bickering or whatever and Dad would just give us that look. We never did test Dad enough to find out what would happen if we ignored that look, but something tells me we didn’t want to find out.

  Before the LAST DAY, I was a very active person who rarely took a day off. Not saying I was a workaholic, more like a work-out-aholic. I was always training for something. Whether it was a triathlon, adventure race, mountain bike race, you name it. I was on a quest to master all solo sports available to someone my age. I’d workout for hours running, swimming, biking, doing cardio workouts, whatever.

  I’d ask Dad to enter us in triathlons all through our summer vacations. Dad enjoyed training us. He’d make sure we trained by doing swim lessons, running, and biking - most every day! When we were little, he’d sit in his chair in the nice shaded garage and make us run and bike laps around the house - 15 minutes running and 15 minutes biking.

  After a while we got smart and walked once we were on the other side of the house where he couldn’t see us. But then he started timing us and expecting us to beat our previous time. So then we had to push ourselves.

  Now don’t get me wrong, we always had the choice t
o not do it. But if we chose not to “exercise” as he called it, then we gave up playing video games or watching TV for the day too.

  Tanner and I chose to not “exercise” once and it turned out to be a really boring day. So we decided a half hour of “exercise” wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

  After a few years of racing, I grew to love it and looked forward to doing it. It wasn’t a race to me, but more like an adventure.

  Dad once told me he wanted us to challenge ourselves. Because one day we will be faced with a difficult situation, where we will either give up or push through. And hopefully we will have the confidence and courage to push through. I guess today that moment has come.

  After the LAST DAY, Dad switched his focus to teaching us survival skills like hunting, fishing, gardening, irrigation, conservation, etc. My dad was a Golden Gloves champion back in his youth, so he taught us fighting skills.

  At one point he began teaching us how to use a gun. We only shot a real gun once so we would know what to expect if ever we had to use one. So to save bullets, we did all other shooting with BB guns. We’d practice shooting mom’s clothes pins and anything else we could make a target of.