Nothing was worse than crankiness because of hunger and fatigue. We trudged through the woods, watching the dirt road for any sign of danger. Well, the men did. I honestly just watched my feet placement.
Finally, I couldn’t go any further. I just couldn’t. Too much disappointment in the last few days caught up to me. I rolled my head back and forth, stretching my neck. “Guys, I’m sorry. I can’t.” My dry mouth didn’t want to talk or even open for gasping breaths. I scratched at my falling ponytail and pinched my shoulder blades together.
Everything hurt. Nothing felt like it should. I was used to hiking long distances, but in new boots and with little more than samples in my stomach I was ready to give up, sit down, and cry – or chew on grass – whichever would make me feel better in the long run.
Bodey slowed and then stopped, walking to me. He reached for my pack, pulling the straps down my arms and resting the whole thing on the ground by a tree. Removing his own bag and setting it aside, he wrapped his arm around me and maneuvered us to a sitting position by the largest tree trunk in the immediate vicinity.
John glanced between the two of us and our quiet surrender struck a chord inside him because he nodded his head. “Okay, let’s try here. Judging by the map Phahn gave me, we should be there by now.” He glanced at the sky and then again at the folded paper. Turning this way and that, he studied the lines of the map, a serious nip between his brows. “Yeah, we need to find a place to rest for the night. I have more peanut butter and some of Mary’s homemade jam we can mix with it.”
But he didn’t let us stop right there. He just teased us enough to walk further for him, pulled along with the promise of more peanut butter sweetened by jam.
I would do anything for Mary’s jam, including walk when I didn’t have the energy or desire to.
Stomping along down logging roads in a maze I’d never understand, John checked the map again. My eyelids dragged downward and I struggled to keep my limbs from giving out on me. I was so hungry. So tired.
We walked another hour or two, well into the darkness. Suddenly, John stopped, slapping his arms out to block us from getting ahead of him.
Glancing up from my studious stare at the ground, I blinked at the bright light glowing through the trees and into the sky. I couldn’t see the stars anymore. How weird, since I had seen nothing at night but stars and fire for the last year and a half. Why was I only interested in the fact that I couldn’t see any more stars?
“What do you think it is?” Bodey tugged me back to him, tucking me into the crook under his arm. He didn’t ask me. He didn’t want anything from me but the agreement that he would protect me. Something, I couldn’t guarantee.
The light wasn’t garish. In fact, it reminded me of the nightlights in our bathrooms while I grew up. Soft and white, but not painstakingly bright like a fluorescent bulb. More like a soft, subtle candle glow that filled the sky.
“I think we found our community.” John breathed, his head tilted back as he viewed the night sky.
We edged closer through the woods, quiet as possible.
Just because the lights looked heavenly, didn’t mean they didn’t lead to hell. I’d been fooled before and John knew my story.
Thick trees helped hide us but the light reached everywhere. I blinked.
A collection of bushes lined a clearing and we stopped behind them. The shadows on our clothes like splotches from doilies on a window pane. The light didn’t get brighter but we stood feet from a wall of metal fencing supported by a cement tower on either end. Long, sturdy sections of chain link topped with razor wire and spikes surrounded the compound.
Beyond that layer of fencing, instead of the confines of the camp, another chain link fence framed nothing but solid wood. The internal wooden fence obstructed our view to the insides.
The side of the compound we were on stretched long into the distance. If I had to guess, I would estimate about six football fields in length, but the lighting threw me off. I rubbed at my eyes, unsure exactly where to look. The privacy fencing covered the source. With so much light, they could have easily had a dome of electricity that would shock anyone who got too close.
Where did it all come from?
John and Bodey studied the towers and the surrounding land. I backed up, out of Bodey’s grasp and sat down, leaning on my borrowed pack and closing my eyes. I was so tired, like bone exhausted – something I’d heard my mom say back when she worked graveyard as a nurse. The past year or so I’d grown intimately familiar with the saying and its meaning.
Searching the lit up woods around us, John backed away from the forest line and claimed a seat beside me. Bodey copied his movements, but scooted in close so our thighs touched.
John whispered, leaning toward us. “Since we’re here, we can eat some more of what we brought, but let’s still be conservative. We might not go in tomorrow. I would hate to gorge on what we have and then things turn out that we still need the food.”
I wouldn’t hate to gorge. There was a hunger-hole in my stomach and I doubted the dang thing would ever be filled. We used to go to buffets when I was little, before the government rationed foods and the prices of anything edible skyrocketed. What I wouldn’t give to see one of those again – like Heaven for the hungry.
Shifting back to press my bag against a tree, I leaned more into my position.
“What’s wrong?” John slid his pack off and dug through its cavernous pockets.
I shrugged. “It’s weird we can’t see the stars, you know? This just feels... different.” I couldn’t say off. I couldn’t say that after so long without electricity, the fact that a whole bunch was being wasted right next to me was a little jarring. They might understand, but I didn’t want to allow the last year and a half to affect me so much – even though it had redesigned my entire internal structure. Acknowledging that wasn’t necessary.
Bodey smiled and kissed my cheek. He reached for the canteen John held out. “Don’t worry, Kelly. Different is sometimes good, right?”
That’s when I saw his excitement and John’s. They were excited to find a resting place, somewhere we could stop being on guard. Did I blame them? Who wouldn’t want that?
Only someone who had seen what a camp could do, could be. The fencing wasn’t as elaborate at the camp Mom had taken me to, but its purpose had been two-fold – keep people out and keep people in.
We didn’t know if the fencing on the other side of those bushes wasn’t serving a similar goal. Escaping from a camp so heavily guarded would be impossible.
Settling into our spots, we didn’t bother starting a fire or even wandering off to relieve ourselves. I think we all recognized the need to just be for a little bit. John passed out chunks of dense bread filled with oats, nuts, and honey.
Mary had called the treat her ‘power punch’ of survival.
Honestly, I didn’t care what it was called. The texture and flavor lulled me into complacency. At that second in time, I would give Mary anything in gratitude for the food she’d sent with us, even knowing she’d killed her own children. While her bread didn’t fill the never-ending hole, the heaviness of the raisins and seeds definitely took the edge off.
I chewed as slow as possible. Bodey and John took their time as well. We didn’t speak, just chewed. Eating had become religious.
Music filled the air, not loud and not thunderous but enough we could discern words and notes clearly.
We jerked upright. I swallowed, whipping my head side to side, searching for a trap.
Holding ourselves erect, we remained coiled and tense, like we would be ready to run any moment. Truth was, we wouldn’t be able to move if anyone had surrounded us. Tiredness ate at our strength like we devoured that bread – in whole chunks and with steadfast consistency.
John tilted his head, searching the forest. “That’s an old classic rock song. Wow, I haven’t heard that since the eighties.” He stared into the branches over my head, unfocused as nostalgia rippled through him.
Bodey leaned back and bit off more of his bread. He nodded his head to the beat, relaxing. “Do you think everything else we’ve heard is true?”
So far the music and the electricity rumors had been fact, not fiction. Would they have food? Would they be the start of a new government? Could we lower our guards and become part of the human race again?
Anxiety crept over me, but that couldn’t be right. We were about to be safe. Nothing could go wrong.
John reached out and patted us on the shoulders in an awkward hug that wasn’t uncomfortable just physically difficult with the distance between us. “Get some rest you two. I’ll check things out in the morning.”
Bodey and I rolled to our sides, our bags a protection from wind – if there were any. Facing each other, we held hands, grass and twigs our bed. We positioned our faces close together. My skin tingled when we touched and lying next to him, I wondered when we’d have another chance to be together. For a moment, worry washed over me, overcoming the excitement being so close to him sparked. I whispered, “What if it’s like the camp Mom took me to?”
He lifted his hand, trailing his finger along my cheek. Shivers slithered down my skin behind his touch. “Then we won’t stay. I won’t let anything happen to you, Kel. I promise.” My husband – how weird to say that – stretched up and kissed my forehead. “Get some sleep, like Dad said. We might be in a real bed tomorrow night.” He scooted forward, his warmth filling the front of me. A real bed. With my real husband.
Could it get better than that?
I was so tired, finding sleep wasn’t difficult.
Chapter 9
I would be lying if I claimed to have slept longer than an hour or two. The light made sleeping difficult. Hopefully, they would have some way to keep the sleeping quarters dark. For so long, I’d woken with the sun or watched our camp in the darkness for safety measures. Sitting in the well-lit forest when the sun wouldn’t be up for a while was disconcerting. I couldn’t convince my befuddled mind to accept the night time scenario.
Sunlight finally softened the black sky. Once the backdrop for the lights had turned whitish-blue, the bulbs clicked off, leaving so much in shadow. I blinked at the natural contrasts I’d grown used to, taken for granted.
Sometime during the night, I’d shimmied from under the weight of my pack and used its bulky form as a pillow while clinging to Bodey’s hand. We were on the precipice of something – big. But I couldn’t pinpoint what, or even if it was good or bad.
John pushed himself to a sitting position. “Kelly, you up?” He always seemed to know by my breathing or something that I wasn’t asleep.
I lifted myself to my elbows, loose hair slipping past my shoulder and swinging in front of my face. “Yeah.” My voice didn’t need to be loud to carry the short distance to John. His bloodshot eyes gave away his lack of sleep as well.
“We’ll stay on top of it in there, okay? I know you’re worried about this being like the last camp you were in.” He seemed to read my mind, seeing my worry and fear and I hadn’t even admitted them fully to myself. “I promise, I won’t let anyone harm you or Bodey, okay?”
I nodded shortly. He couldn’t promise something like that, but the fact that he did made me feel better because John kept his promises – no matter what. “Thanks, John.” I couldn’t tell him everything swelling in my chest – my gratitude he had taken me under his wing without questions, love for his complete acceptance of me into his family, trust in him, acceptance, and respect for him as a man.
Birds chirped with the rising of the sun and the forest seemed to rustle off its sleep, stretching for the day.
The summer hadn’t been too hot or dry. Fortunately, the fall crept in with respect and didn’t leave us with too warm of days or too cold of nights. In an evergreen forest, the various colored leaves and foliage would be lower than all the branches and needles of the trees. But the golds, oranges, and reds were just beginning to peek around the edges and cooler air made itself known with sporadic bursts on the back of my neck.
“When do you think we can go in?” John glanced over his shoulder toward the compound we’d left outside the forest.
Small talk didn’t come naturally to either him or me, yet I understood his need to talk out of nervousness. He talked his worries out, planned verbally after he thought things through as carefully as possible.
I shrugged. “Probably whenever we want to. I doubt they have guards only on during the night or something. I guess the question is when do we want to?” I had a sinking sensation that was exactly what he was asking.
He wanted me to ask so when he volunteered a time he wasn’t telling us, he was just answering my question.
The man was tricky, but he made me laugh.
Bodey pushed up, rubbing at his eyes. He yawned. “Time to get up already?” He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around his bent legs, the muscles of his forearms rippling when he flexed his hands and cracked his knuckles. “That bread was filling.” He smiled at me, his blue eyes startling in the morning light.
“We were discussing when we want to try to go inside. Do you have a preference?” John asked formally. In a moment he would casually drop his suggestion. He hadn’t answered my question which probably meant any minute. He’d ask us to pack up and get to the gate.
Bodey shrugged, the round of his shoulders smoothing out with his stretch. “Not really. I just want to figure out, if we’re staying or going so I’m not in limbo.”
Limbo.
My husband found the exact word to describe where we’d been for so long. We had been traveling and making camp and moving long enough, I’d forgotten what settled somewhere meant. How would I make my mark in a momentary home?
Even the flooring warehouse had been temporary, we’d always known that.
I glanced between father and son, rolling my eyes as Bodey and John waited to see what the other was thinking.
Rocking to my feet, I bent down and grabbed my bag, jerking it to my side to pull on. “Let’s go now, then. Get it out of the way.” I lifted my eyebrow at John, his small side-smile indicative I’d suggested exactly the time he wanted.
The men joined me. Bodey grabbed at his dad’s bag. “Hey, do you have any more bread in there? I could handle another slice.”
John grinned, lifting his eyebrow. “I do. Pull it out and let’s finish it off. But stay away from the jerky and the dried fruit. The MREs Phahn gave us were hard to tuck into that pack, so leave those alone, too. We need something in case this doesn’t work.”
We procrastinated, all of us eating the rest of the bread in silence, like if we didn’t acknowledge what we were doing, it wouldn’t count if we failed or not.
Excitement warred with our instincts to be cautious. Power and music were more than we could hope for. The list of things that would keep us from trying to join the community was very short and growing shorter.
Out of habit, we fell into step with John at the lead and Bodey bringing up the rear. The gate wasn’t on the side we’d come upon. We stayed out of sight, just inside the forest line.
The chain link fence didn’t end. At the concrete brick towers, the fence turned off to a sharp ninety-degree angle and ran for what could seem forever with no end in sight. We trekked and pushed on.
We had to find an entrance. There had to be one. If there wasn’t, then how did people get inside? How did they get out?
The question would drive me nuts, if we didn’t find the entrance. Instead of the perfect camp, we’d forever seek entry to a mirage compound.
We turned another corner and suddenly a large entrance with half-sized towers stood guard on either side of the double gates. Men dressed in bright green jumpsuits, holding black semi-automatic weapons, paced on the platforms near the top of the towers.
John pointed toward the arrival of a Jeep, rolling through the triple-layers of gates. Bodey and I gazed at each other, our mouths a
gape.
A car. A running car. We hadn’t seen one...
I wiped at my cheeks, the moisture from my eyes unwelcome and yet not surprising. “Do you think that means things really might be turning around?” To skip the worst stage and move toward better or best just couldn’t be right. Something couldn’t be right... yet, I wanted the world so desperately to be fine. I twisted my wedding ring on my finger. What if I lost Bodey? Where would I be? What would I do?
We paused. John carefully studied each of our faces. His seriousness stilled my jitters. “Are we ready, guys?” If John was nervous, then it was okay for me to be.
Ready? For what? We’d grown used to survival mode, living minute by minute, running from groups and fighting for every bite, every sip, every right to sleep and be.
I nodded shortly, swallowing hard on my growing anxiety. But nothing was wrong. We needed inside those fences.
No one had mentioned it, but how did we know the group asking about us and setting the Scoggins house on fire wasn’t feet behind us? Inside the fences we would at least have the peace of mind everyone had to live according to some kind of rules.
Rules. Crap. Rules. I hadn’t fully come to terms with the ones I’d already accepted.
Pray.
Trust no one.
Stay alive.
Stay together.
I could handle those four, but add more and I might not be able to keep everything straight.
“Okay, here we go.” John reached out and clasped Bodey’s hand. My husband grabbed my fingers in his, our comfortable go-to. I loved that he wanted to touch me during little moments.
This was a big moment and he needed to hold me, and I him.
Who would have known I would develop such strong feelings for him? I had never known loving someone so much was possible. Our fingers mashed together.
“Here we go, one, two, three.” John counted us out of the forest. I breathed with the cadence.
We stepped onto the gravel which marked the land around the fence and under the chain link. Rocks crunched under our feet.
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