The Hidden Survivor

by Connor Mccoy

  “Thanks, Doc,” Christian said. “Don’t suppose I could get a shot of whiskey for the pain?”

  “Uh, no.” Glen gave Christian his best disapproving look. “Not happening. You can have a non-narcotic painkiller if you like.”

  Christian looked disappointed. “I suppose that will have to do. Meanwhile, I need to use the loo. If I’m walking tomorrow, I probably should try standing today.”

  “That would be a good idea,” Glen said, “but let me help you.”

  “I’ll help him,” Mia said.

  “It may take two of us to get him standing,” Glen said. He placed his arm behind Christian’s shoulders so he could achieve a sitting position without straining his stitched muscles. Mia helped him to swing his legs off the couch and together they got him upright. He seemed pretty steady on his feet so Glen let Mia walk with him into the bathroom.

  There was giggling on the other side of the door, and Glen thought Christian must be feeling better than he’d thought possible if he could laugh while Mia was helping him urinate. Then the door opened and the pair returned to the living room, Christian hardly putting any weight on Mia at all. Sally came in from the deck and grinned like a fool when she saw Christian standing.

  This was good, Glen thought. They were in better spirits and Christian looked strong. They just needed to keep him that way.

  “See if you can walk around on your own” he said to Christian. “Mia, take him out to the deck for a stroll around the pond.”

  Glen watched the three of them meander around the pond. They were in good spirits and Christian seemed to be moving well, but Glen had his doubts about the trek. It was a long way and, as chipper as Christian seemed now, he had a severe injury. Maybe he should pull out the truck. They could drive there in a couple of hours and be back in a day.

  But Sarah was in his head, telling him to take care of himself. Don’t waste the gas, don’t risk losing the truck. There might come a time you’ll need it. If you walk the three to the far town, there will be no reason for them to come back here. You’ll be safe. But the guilt tugged on him as well, telling him he was being selfish. He found himself walking out to the truck, keys in hand.

  He was saved from himself. The truck had two flat tires. When had that happened? Were they flat when he came out to get the first aid kit? He didn’t think so. Which meant those women still were considering carrying out their initial plan. They let the air out of the tires so he couldn’t drive away.

  He walked back into the house, returned the truck keys to the hook and went to stand by the window overlooking the deck. They still were out there goofing around. Acting like the children they were. Deadly children. Who knew what was going on in their heads? He’d have to be careful. He wanted to come back in one piece. As far as he knew, they could be planning to kill him and take his cabin. Probably after he’d gotten them the medical supplies they needed.

  He’d better make sure they couldn’t figure out the way back. And he’d better be sure they couldn’t get to him without first waking him up. He went back to his closet and pulled out his bivy, a small tent just big enough for one person. He also grabbed his Ferro rod for starting fires and some duct tape.

  He dropped those items in his bug-out bag and went into the kitchen. The stovetop and oven were propane-powered. Hopefully, there was enough fuel left to bake some traveling bread. It was a recipe he’d created for days he was out hunting. It was high in protein, traveled well, and stayed good to eat for days. They’d get tired of eating it, but they’d also be grateful to have it.

  He was kneading dough when the trio came back inside. Christian was worn out and headed back to the couch with Mia by his side, but Sally came to see what Glen was doing. She took a slab of the dough and worked companionably beside him, following his lead. They created forty-eight discs of dough and placed them in the oven to rise.

  When they’d first arrived he’d thought of Sally as spineless and weak, but maybe that wasn’t the case. She had a sense of calm around her now. She listened well and paid attention. There was a kind of quiet confidence about her.

  “I’m going to sit on the deck while that rises,” he said to her. “Want to come?”

  “Sure,” she said, glancing over at Christina and Mia, who both were sound asleep on the couch and chair. “Anyway, we won’t wake them if we’re outside.”

  “What did you do in the real world, before this all happened?” Glen asked Sally. “Before the lights went out, I mean.”

  “I knew what you meant,” she said. “I was a photography student. I took wedding photos and pictures of kids and dogs to pay the bills, but I wanted to be a photojournalist. I don’t think anyone does that anymore? Do you? It’s not like you could sell photos online anymore, even if money had any value.”

  “I suppose not,” he said. “Do you still own a camera?”

  “No. I don’t own much of anything. We stashed our backpacks before Christian was attacked by the bear and I’m not sure we could even find them again. There wasn’t much in them because we’d traded the good stuff for food. What about you? Where you when it all ended?”

  “I was here,” he said. “I left my old life behind some years before it happened.” It seemed a long time ago now, but Sarah still was ever present in his head. He wondered why that was. Maybe because he’d been isolated.

  “What did you do before you came here?” she asked.

  “I was a doctor,” he said. “I lived in Philadelphia.”

  “What kind of doctor were you? Like a primary care physician?” She looked at him sideways. “No not a primary care doc, some kind of specialist. Like maybe a...

  “A neurosurgeon,” he said. “Not primary care.”

  She laughed. “See? I was right. A specialist. Was the job too stressful? Is that why you came here?”

  A breeze blew across the pond, rippling the water and lifting the hair around Sally’s face. He thought about lying, not telling her the story, but why? What was the point in keeping it a secret now?

  “I was in a car accident,” he said. “It killed my wife and child but I survived. When I recovered I didn’t want to practice medicine anymore. I couldn’t.”

  “Did you lose your muscle dexterity in your fingers?” she asked.

  “No. There just didn’t seem to be any point without my family. Without them I just didn’t care anymore. So, you have a brain tumor or hydrocephalus, maybe some weird genetic anomaly, so what? At least you are alive.” He paused. “There are hundreds of great brain doctors out there. No one is missing me.”

  She was silent for a few minutes and Glen’s thoughts began focusing on tomorrow’s journey. So, he was taken aback when she spoke.

  “I’m sorry about your family,” she said quietly. “That must have been horrible.” She shook her head slowly. “To be the only one left alive.” She trailed off. “Did you feel guilty? Did guilt drive you out here?” She put a hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry. That was tactless. You don’t have to answer.”

  Glen gave her a sad smile. “The sorrow more than the guilt,” he said. “I had a huge hole inside me and it was such an effort to have to speak to people with the best parts of me missing. I just couldn’t take it. I actually didn’t think I’d make it this long. I figured I was coming here to die. I just didn’t.”

  “You lived despite yourself,” Sally said.

  “Something like that.” He stretched and got up. “Time to take out the travel bread from the oven,” he said. “And then double-check my supplies for our trip. Are you coming in?”

  “No. I think I’ll sit out here for a bit.” She smiled up at him. “I’ll be in later.”

  Chapter Eight

  Glen was pulling the bread from the oven when Sally came flying in, her face alight. “There’s a fox out there,” she said excitedly. “Did you know you have a fox? She just stood and looked at me for the longest time.”

  “She was hoping for some food,” Glen said. “She’s the closest I’ve ever come to hav
ing a dog. Only better because she can take care of herself if something happens to me. She saved my life once.”

  “How did a wild fox save your life?” Mia asked from the chair across the room.

  “I fell off a cliff and she wouldn’t stop yipping at me. I might have just gone to sleep and never woken up, but she made so much noise that I finally had to get up and rescue myself.” He smiled. The memory was not as horrifying as it once had been.

  “Wow,” Sally said. “That’s wild and ridiculously cool. Not everyone can say they have a fox as a companion.

  “I guess not,” Glen said, putting the last tray of rolls on the counter to cool. “Her kits are usually friendly too, but they don’t stick around. Sometimes I think I see one when I’m roaming around or hunting, but it’s hard to tell. One fox looks very much like another.”

  Mia got up from her chair. “Is it still out there?” she asked. “I want to see it.”

  “I think it went back to its den,” Sally said. “It kind of flicked its tail at me and disappeared into the long grass.”

  “She’ll have gone to hunt,” Glen said. “I don’t think she’ll come back here tonight. Come and have some food while it’s warm.” He pulled a potato pie he’d made while the bread was cooking from the oven. “Carbs for our trip tomorrow.”

  Christian woke and joined them at the table, although he didn’t eat much. Glen would have to check that wound again tonight. But for now he turned his attention to Mia.

  “What did you do in the real world, before the power went out, Mia?” he asked.

  “I went to school with Sally,” she said, through a mouthful of potatoes. “Studied something irrelevant. Oh yeah, classical languages. Whole lot of good that will do me now. Should have studied forestry or something useful like that. Did they have classes in survival, Sal? We should have taken those.”

  “I doubt it,” Sally said, “and even if they did, you would have skipped them. Learning was not your objective at college.”

  “What was your objective?” Glen asked.

  “Finding a suitable husband,” Mia said. “At least according to my mother. She didn’t care a fig about what I studied or if I passed classes as long as I could live at college and try finding a good man. I mean, really. What if I’d been gay? Would I have been looking for a good woman?”

  “Your mother would have passed out cold if you’d brought a woman home.” Sally was laughing so hard she hardly could get the words out. “Can you imagine her face?”

  Mia’s face fell and Glen thought she was fighting back tears.

  “I can’t really see her face anymore,” she said, and her chin quivered.

  “Oh God, I’m sorry, Mia. I wasn’t thinking.” Sally looked stricken.

  “Come on, Mia, let’s go look at the stars,” Christian said, and stood up. Mia followed him outside.

  “Mia’s family was rich,” Sally explained, “and after the lights went out looters came to her house and killed her family. She hid in a cupboard in the laundry room and when she came out everyone was dead. They’d slashed her mom’s face to pieces. It was horrific.”

  “How brutal for her,” Glen said, “and it explains a lot.”

  “Like what?” Sally asked.

  “Her fierceness when you first came here. Also, her attachment to a large Latino man with tattoos covering his arms. Who, by the way, is far too old for her. It’s hard to see anyone taking Christian by surprise.” Which was another reason Glen would have to be very careful.

  “I see how you could think that, but I’m not sure you’re right. She’s always been attracted to bad boys in motorcycle leathers and tattoos.” Sally wrinkled her nose. “Sort of, anyway. I think mostly they were wannabes.”

  “Mia went out with motorcycle gang wannabes?” Glen said. “Really? I thought she was more perceptive than that.”

  “There aren’t many actual bonafide Hells Angels on university campuses, you know. They tend to have their degrees already, legit jobs, and tons of money. I think she was stuck with the not-so bad boys.” Sally shrugged. “Not that her parents knew the difference, so it was a win-win for Mia.”

  “I can see that,” Glen said, suddenly glad he didn’t have a daughter with the need to rebel. “So now she has her bonafide bad boy. Too bad the world had to end for her to get it. I mean him.”

  “It is probably more PC these days,” Sally said. “Anyway, I knew what you meant.” She rested her elbows on the table and cupped her chin in her hands.

  “That’s the trouble with growing up with money. It’s so much harder to figure out who you are. And then there is all the rebelling against Daddy’s money.” She sighed. “It’s taken Mia quite a while to really come into her own. And truthfully, I don’t think she’s there yet. Now she’s got arrested development from being in the house when her family was killed. They killed the servants too. It was brutal. So unnecessary. And what’s that stuff really going to get them in this world? Not much, I don’t think.”

  “Probably not,” Glen said, thinking that Sally had talked more in the last ten minutes than all the time before that since they’d arrived at his door. And he wondered why. What had changed that made her want to talk? He shrugged. What did it matter, really?

  “It’s a long day tomorrow,” he said. “Best head to sleep.” He got up and went to the door, cracked it open, and called out into the night. “Don’t stay out too late,” he said. “We’ve got a lot of walking to do tomorrow.” Then he slid the door closed. “Good night,” he said to Sally, and headed down the hall to his room.

  “Good night,” he heard her call after him. He wondered if she was a little forlorn.

  He’d hoped that he would drop right off to sleep, but his mind wouldn’t quiet. There was so much that could go wrong over the next couple of days. Even in normal times a two-day hike took some preparation and he would have thought twice about bringing a trio of untried newbies.

  He rolled over and bunched his pillow under his head. He tried deep breathing, but his eyes kept popping open. It was the same thing that used to happen to him when he became a surgeon. The beginning of his career was a litany of sleepless nights reviewing every detail of the upcoming surgery. So, instead of fighting it, he let his mind wander over the activities of the day to come.

  He would take them out by the road. Because they didn’t already know the back roads, and he didn’t really know which way they came in. So, they’d go out by the road, and go the opposite way of the town, which just happened to be the most direct route. Although taking the direct route was not the most important thing here. He could hear Sarah’s voice in his ear. Don’t worry about them, worry about you. She used to say, “The administration can take care of itself. You do what you need to for the patient and yourself. Everyone else can look after their own business.”

  He found himself missing her. She was always on his side. The perfect wife. He gave himself a minute to feel the sadness and regret, then shook his head. Back to business: how to stay alive and get back here in one piece.

  So, they’d take the road for maybe five hours, ducking off it if they heard signs of people. It was possible they’d come across roadblocks, or maybe an ambush. So, they’d have to be vigilant and he also would have to carry a weapon. He wondered if he should arm the others, but decided against it. It was too easy to fall prey to his own firearm.

  So, five hours down the road and then cut into the wilderness. Skirt Black Mountain, which really was more of a hill, cross the river above Black Falls, and camp on the far side. There they would have water and the falls would muffle any noise they might make. If there was enough mist coming off the water, they could have a small fire, and dry anyone who’d gotten wet in the crossing. Depending on the water level they might be able to get across dry, but he doubted it. One misstep on a slippery rock and in the water you went.

  The following day they would head upstream and then circle east, coming at the town from the far side, further protecting the location of his home b
ase. He felt a twinge of guilt. They could reach the town in one day if they started out through the woods and went directly there. But that he would not do. Sarah would not approve.

  The route east from the falls had its own set of problems. There was a ravine to cross. There used to be a rope bridge that the community had erected for local hunters, but it could be guarded, or gone. So, they’d have to play that one by ear. The ravine could be traversed in a couple of different places, it just was a matter of finding them and making sure they weren’t guarded.

  There was a ridge to the north of the town that made a good outlook, but the downfall was the track to the town was narrow and easily guarded. The alternative route was a circuitous one that added hours to the trek and skirted a number of old farms that still could be inhabited. So, he’d hope for the shorter track, but they’d just have to see. It was possible they’d get to the ridge and then have to spend another entire day getting to the town.

  He hoped Christian would hold up to the stresses. They really didn’t need for him to succumb to an infection and be unable to travel. Which reminded him, he’d need to double-check the first aid kit. He needed to be able to repair that wound if it ripped or started to seep. And there was always the chance that one of the others would get hurt.

  And then a thought struck him. Was it possible that Christian had tangled with a bear on purpose so Glen would open the door to him? Was it worth it to Christian to be wounded to get his foot in Glen’s door? And was it his stuff that they wanted, or his help in gaining access to the town?

  A cold shiver ran down his back. Was this the trap? To take him to the town and use him to gain access? Or to trade him for a spot in the community, or safe passage? A surgeon would be a valuable asset, especially if they had a need for a doctor. Was he walking into a trap? Very possibly. So, he’d have to pay attention and watch them.

  He briefly thought about ditching them someplace, the falls perhaps. But he decided against it. What if they hadn’t planned the bear attack? Christian really needed help and Glen was fairly certain he could talk himself out of any situation where his life or freedom was at risk. Every community needed a doctor, and he had more specialized skills than any he’d heard of around here. He could keep himself alive and plan an escape if needed. He just hoped it wasn’t needed.