by Chris Bostic
Katelyn gave my sister a conspiratorial grin. “We’ll talk soon.” I tugged on her arm, and she added, “Nice to meet you,” over her shoulder as I dragged her away.
We headed back to find my mother finally wrapping up her conversation with Mrs. Jennings. Mom’s brow was furrowed as she turned toward us. She was apparently so preoccupied she walked right past us without saying a word.
“Mom,” I called after her, but my only response was boots pounding on the ground.
Katelyn steered me over toward her mother instead. “What’s going on?”
“Oh, hey kids.” Mrs. Jennings looked equally concerned about something as she slipped the walkie-talkie in her pocket. Before I could question that, she asked Katelyn, “Shouldn’t you be resting? You’re still limping a bit.”
“I’m fine, Mom. Really. How about you?”
Mrs. Jennings exhaled exaggeratedly and lowered her voice. “No time for that now. If you’re okay, then I need to be packing.”
“Why?” Katelyn asked before I could.
Mrs. Jennings pulled us off to the side away from the other adults. As we sat down at a picnic table, I watched the group break apart and move around camp. Some milled aimlessly, either staring at the sky or watching their feet drag on the ground. But others were more planned in their movements. A couple dug into tents while others took off for the stockpile in the back.
When I turned back to Mrs. Jennings, she was saying, “I’m going into town. Tonight.”
“What?” Katelyn gripped my arm again. “You can’t leave us.”
“Gatlinburg?” I asked through clenched teeth. I’d already seen some of what had happened in that town on our way to the park, and I didn’t expect them to find much of anything useful. Or anyone at all.
She nodded. “I have to find out what’s going on…and more importantly, what’s left. The longer we wait, the more likely someone will grab the rest of the good stuff. We can’t take that chance.” Rather ambiguously she added, “There’s some, uhm, special kinda stuff we need to do.”
Talons dug deeper into the fleshy part of my forearm. I pulled my arm free as smoothly as I could and wrapped it around Katelyn’s shoulder. She tried to say something but couldn’t get the words out.
“Is my mom going with you?”
“Yes.” Before I could follow up, she added, “Several of us.” Mrs. Jennings looked at Katelyn. “Now no more questions. Just know that I need you to stay here and help watch over the kids.”
“Because I did such a good job with Jonas?” Katelyn managed a feeble laugh. I stifled a chuckle of my own while trying hard not to think about my mom heading off into a warzone.
“Because your brother’s going with me.”
She muttered something that sounded like, “Not John too.”
I squeezed her shoulders tightly and wondered about my dad and brother. I knew Maddie wasn’t going, but I assumed both of them might be headed off too. It reminded me of something I’d been wondering for a while.
I turned to Katelyn and asked, “Where’s your dad?”
“I don’t know. Mom?”
“Still scouting. He left for Elkmont a while ago to see if our vehicles are still intact.” With a smile, she added, “Didn’t I say no more questions?”
When I looked at her curiously, she relented and filled me in on the rest of the story. “Fine. We parked and unloaded down in Elkmont, then hid the cars and hiked our way up here.”
I thought back to our Jeep covered with the tarp, and Mr. Clean’s truck. Neither of those vehicles could run anymore. At least not without some major repairs.
“When you father gets back, we’re headed out.” I felt Katelyn tremble as her mom talked. It was tearing me apart. “Don’t worry. It’s a short trip.”
Mrs. Jennings stood up from the table and took a moment to look over the camp. My eyes followed hers, noticing a building pile of supplies on one of the back tables. A man in a camouflage jacket tossed a backpack on a table, and returned a moment later with an armful of guns. It looked like a mix of hunting rifles and shotguns.
Another man emerged from a tent in the back with boxes of ammunition. By the way he walked, I realized it was John. Rather than let Katelyn see him preparing for what sounded like a risky mission, I helped her up.
“Show me where your tent’s at. You need to rest.”
“That a great idea,” Mrs. Jennings said.
Katelyn pointed off toward the trail at the front of the campsite. “Second one on the right,” she mumbled.
I walked her over to the tent, and reached underneath the pile of brush stacked on top to unzip the door. She lingered for a moment before finally dropping to her knees. Katelyn crawled inside and I was the one to linger, not really knowing what to do next.
Her head popped back out. “Stay with me.”
My heart skipped a beat. I shot a furtive glace toward the group of adults gathering toward the back of camp. “What about your Mom? She won’t like me in-”
“She’s leaving, so…” She swallowed and whispered, “I need someone.”
“I am someone,” I said, trying to cover up my anxiety with a joke. I took one more glance around the campsite. “Slide over, I’m coming in.”
In a swift movement, I dropped to the ground and shot inside the tent like I was jumping through a doggie door.
“Nervous?” Katelyn asked.
“I’d rather your mom didn’t find out.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Katelyn kept her soft brown eyes locked on me as I made myself comfortable. It was a four man tent, which meant it was really best suited for two people. Four would’ve pressed us together tightly, not unlike the way I hoped to be in a moment—only just with Katelyn.
“Uhm, yeah. Of course.” Having already mentioned the bombing on our hike back from the falls, I didn’t repeat that I’d already seen what had happened with the riot in Gatlinburg. The way I figured it, things were probably worse now than they were a couple days ago. Somehow, I managed to somewhat convincingly say, “They’ll be fine, though.”
“God, I hope so. This is all so crazy.” Katelyn rested her head on a pillow and scooted over to pat the wadded up, thicker sleeping bag next to her thin, cartoony one. “That’s John’s, but I don’t think he’ll mind.”
“You a little old to share with your brother?”
She laughed, thankfully, so I didn’t have to explain how I was kidding. Obviously, desperate times required sacrifices. I had no idea where I was going to be spending the night. Probably with Maddie and Austin.
I sat up suddenly, realizing the departure of both of our sets of parents would leave us sort of on our own for the evening. I could stay in there with Katelyn, but I wondered about Maddie.
“What?”
“I should probably check on my sister…sometime.” I laid back down, not ready to leave Katelyn. “We don’t have a tent here.”
“Something tells me that you take care of your sister. Anyone else? Seems like you said something about a brother earlier.”
“Yeah, an older brother…Austin. He’s so annoying. Kinda like Maddie, but much worse.”
“Maybe I’m lucky I’ve only got John.” She stared at the tent ceiling for a moment. “He’d be gone from home if he could’ve found a job. Even Dad couldn’t get him one at the bank.”
“Your dad works at a bank?”
“Yeah, First South.” She looked at me curiously.
“So did mine. At the big building in Knoxville?”
“No way, mine too. They probably know each other.”
“Just like our moms. How weird.”
I scratched my chin and wondered exactly how similar our situations were. I didn’t remember anything unusual about her house for the short time I was over there on the couch. There were no boxes or tubs or backpacks sitting around. Her house was spotless.
Deeply intrigued, I had to ask more about what she knew ahead of time. “Did your dad, uhm, kinda have an idea that something lik
e this might happen? It seemed like all I ever got was conspiracy theories.”
“Apparently it wasn’t exactly a theory, or a conspiracy, or whatevs.”
I chuckled under my breath and looked at my dad in a new light. “I guess you’re right. So you heard the same stuff?”
“Oh, yeah. All about default and bankruptcy and everyone losing their jobs. Then riots and no money.”
“Sounds familiar.” I let that sink in before asking, “When did you guys get out of town?”
“Not too long after you ditched me. Mom got an email or something, and we spent the rest of the afternoon throwing anything we could find into the car.”
“That was probably my mom,” I said. “She fired off something on the tablet before we rolled out of town.”
I couldn’t believe how similar our parents were, though I had a feeling my mom was a little more outdoorsy. And definitely a bigger prepper. Katelyn’s cartoon sleeping bag was too short and probably ten years old. It was the type with barely any insulation, and wouldn’t cover to her shoulders if she didn’t scrunch up inside it. I would’ve been happy to curl up in there with her, but we would’ve busted out the seams trying to get inside. The cheap thing was made for a little kid, implying to me that Katelyn had spent far more time at beaches in recent years than roughing it in a tent.
Things couldn’t get much rougher. Every creature comfort I’d ever known was gone. It wasn’t a long camping trip where I could see the light at the end of the uncomfortable tunnel. There was no end in sight, and no way to even predict the end.
I looked back at Katelyn, who had leaned back and closed her eyes. The flimsy bag wouldn’t offer much padding from the hard ground either, and I wondered if she was as ill-prepared for winter as me. I assumed she at least had a jacket and warmer clothes.
Everything about the situation made me want to go home, if nothing more than to grab more clothes and blankets. And a warmer sleeping bag for Katelyn. It would be a brutal winter out there with that thin thing, if we even lasted that long.
CHAPTER 32
Fortunately, Katelyn wasn’t sleeping. She heard Mr. Jennings return, and I was able to sneak out of the tent before he came over. He stayed long enough to say a quick hello and check on her injured leg before heading off to prepare to leave again.
Katelyn joined me at a table. We watched the group get ready for their mission. My stomach was in turmoil, and I assumed Katelyn felt the same way.
At first, I almost didn’t recognize Austin and Dad. They were dressed in borrowed camouflage jackets, standing next to Mom and several others at the back side of the camp. Mom was smearing dark face paint on Dad, who looked less than pleased. But he wasn’t objecting. He rarely complained, though his facial expressions sometimes gave him away.
“The Olsens are going to be in charge of the camp,” Mr. Jennings said to his daughter as he returned to say goodbye. “I want you to help them out by watching all the kids. They’ll be doing the cooking, so you just need to keep the youngsters out of the way.” He turned to Mrs. Jennings, and without looking at Katelyn said, “We won’t be long, kiddo.”
“How long is that?” she asked.
“Back tomorrow. We’ll be in town by nightfall, grab what we need, and head back this way by morning.”
“So you’re hiking?” I said.
He turned to me with a quizzical look. “And you’re…”
“Zach.”
“Oh, right. Thank you for taking care of my daughter.”
There was something about the way he said taking care that didn’t sit quite right with me. The afternoon sunlight was blocked by a baseball cap, leaving his face in shadows. I assumed he meant at the waterfall, but seemed to imply something in the future too. Not that I minded, but it wasn’t the type of thank you that seemed fully sincere.
“Yes, sir,” I said, trying to be as polite as possible.
He ignored my reply to focus on Katelyn, and gave her the answer to my question. “The vehicles looked fine, but we’re not risking it. It’s not too long of a hike. Besides, we have something else in mind.” He spun around to walk back to the group, and left us with one last assurance. “We’ll be back tomorrow. I promise.”
It struck me as one of those things people say to make someone else feel better. Coming back in one piece was almost totally out of his control, but I was relieved that it seemed to work for Katelyn. She hopped up to chase after him and gave him a hug.
“You’re moving well,” I said after she returned.
“Not too bad.” She sat down and ran a hand along her calf. I reached over to pull up her pant leg and hesitated.
“May I?”
“Sure.” She kicked her leg up on the seat, and I checked it out. There was a definite bruise forming, but not as bad as I’d expected. Of course, it would take time for it to make it to the surface in ugly purple and yellow fashion.
“The indentation is gone,” I said. “It looks pretty good.”
“I’m super lucky.” She ran her hand over mine, holding it to her leg. “I mean it hurts, but I don’t think it’s broken. I don’t know how, but…you know.”
“Count your blessings,” I said, mimicking something my mom might have said.
Thinking of her, I turned back to the group. I was tempted to go give her a farewell hug too, but she looked busy giving orders. Dad was pacing, while Austin was right behind Mom copying her every move. He had a gun holstered on his hip, loving this like it was a real life game of Call of Duty.
My stomach knotted moments later when Mr. Jennings waved the group of at least fifteen adults, our parents included, into the woods beyond the outhouse.
“I guess it’s just us now,” Katelyn said softly.
“Sorta. And the Olsens, whoever they are.” I gestured around the campsite to an older woman back by the kitchen area. She was probably someone’s grandmother. It made me miss mine even more than I’d expected. And Grandpa. It was a shame my parents couldn’t convince him to come along. He had to have learned the truth by then, and I figured he would’ve probably changed his mind. But maybe not; he was stubborn, or so they often said.
“There’re a couple of ‘em,” Katelyn replied. “That older lady is the grandma.” She pointed to a similarly old guy who stepped out from behind a stack of boxes in the kitchen. It was the same slow man from along the trail to the waterfall. “And that guy.”
“That’s all they’ve left here with us?” I asked incredulously. “No wonder we need to watch the kids. That’s something my parents would say if they stuck me with some old fossils.”
Katelyn laughed. “No, when I said a couple, I meant two couples.”
“Two?”
“Yeah, they have a son and his wife here. They’re about our parents’ age…and they have their kids here too.”
“Dang, it really is like a big ole family reunion.”
“They’re our neighbors. Kinda quiet folks, but anyway…” She pointed across the camp to a couple I hadn’t seen stretched out on the leaves under a big tree. “And they’re over there.”
“Wonder what it feels like to miss out…” I cut myself off before saying something like missing out on the war, or avoiding the battle, or some other inflammatory, violent suggestion. Katelyn didn’t need to be reminded of that.
I kept massaging Katelyn’s leg. A pair of kids ran by, and I was relieved to see Jonas chasing behind them. He wasn’t about to run a race, but he was getting around okay. A bandana was wrapped around his head, possibly to cover a cut, but he looked fine otherwise. Slow moving, but all right. I’d be sluggish too if I’d fallen off a cliff.
Mom had always said kids had loads of energy and they bounced back quickly. If that was the case, I was already feeling old. Worse yet to be in charge of a bunch of elementary school kids who really needed to keep their voices down.
“They’d better be quiet,” I said, and stood to go over and grab the loudest one by the collar.
Fortunately, Katelyn had a bette
r idea. She got the attention of the kid nearest to us, and convinced the rest of them to come over and play a game by breaking into a bag of Frisbees.
“Oh, cool,” I said. “Ultimate Frisbee?”
“That’s probably a little too intense,” she said, mocking me kindly. “I was thinking maybe some catch.”
From the back of the group of six, a chunky older boy muttered, “Lame.”
I smiled and shot a look at Katelyn to rub it in. She brushed it off. “How about Frisbee golf?”
“How do you play that?” a red-haired, pencil-thin boy said. He looked about ten with pale blue eyes framed by a thousand freckles.
“Well, Lance,” Katelyn explained, “just pick out something to throw at and we’ll see who gets there in the least amount of throws.”
“How about that skinny girl?” Lance suggested, pointing at a black-haired girl resting her head on folded arms at the far picnic table.
“Sounds good to me,” I said eagerly. “I’ll throw first. Hand me a Frisbee.”
“Zach!” Katelyn chided. “Leave your sister alone.”
“I was just kidding.” I pointed across the clearing to a crooked tree at the edge of the woods. “How about that tree?”
“That’s better.” Katelyn passed out Frisbees to the group. “Everyone throw once before we start walking.”
It was a brilliant idea to keep all of our minds off the departure of the adults. The game went on until nearly dark when the sun settled below the mountaintop. Finally, when maybe a half hour of daylight remained, the grandmotherly woman and her husband called us over for supper.
It reminded me a lot of my first, and only, weekend at Boy Scout camp. We’d eaten sloppy joes and chips, and sat around picnic tables all tired from a long day outdoors. The only thing missing was a campfire.
Though it was a little early, as soon as the mosquitos arrived in full force, Katelyn suggested that the kids should head off to their tents.
I supposed it was bedtime for some of the younger kids. I was ready to sleep too, but I stayed out in the mosquito swarm long enough to help Katelyn and Maddie make sure all the younger kids got off to bed before stretching out myself.