David and Charlie were doing well for the amount of distance we'd covered. I was impressed even though I'd carried them about fifty percent of the time. I already knew Alistair wouldn't have any issues. Greg on the other hand, was breathing erratically and hadn't stopped sweating since he'd woke up.
"You gonna be alright?" I asked Greg and offered him a bottle of water.
He grabbed it and poured half of it over his head. After swigging the rest, he looked up at me and shrugged. "I'm good man. Just got a bit of a fever...nothing to worry about."
"You keep saying don't worry, but you keep getting worse. It's got me worried Greg. We need to do something about your arm."
Greg stood up, I'm sure to make some over the top gesture about his great health, but he never got the chance. The sound of a woman screaming ripped through the air and I spun around.
"It's coming from the road," Greg said.
I turned to Melinda. "Stay here."
CHAPTER 13
WHAT THE WORLD HAS BECOME
I slipped through the trees with Greg right behind me. Moving as fast as I could, without making a ruckus, I clawed my way toward the shouting. The screams grew louder and louder the closer we came and whatever was happening, I could tell a great deal of pain was involved.
I stopped short of the road, where I was still covered by the thick foliage. Silently pushing the branches out of the way, I looked out to the street. There was an older, brown pick-up truck pulled off to the side, still running. A half-naked woman was scampering away while three men laughed and kicked at her.
"No, please no!" the woman shouted.
She was wearing a torn, white t-shirt and underwear. Her face was bloodied and bruised and her knees were scratched up. From what I could tell she was probably in her early thirties and had kept herself in good shape...up until now.
The men were an assortment of shady looking characters. They were all heavy set and looked in dire need of baths. One was dark-skinned with thick, curly hair and meaty hands like a construction worker. The other two looked like twin brothers. Both were beet red from the sun with brown, buzzed hair and thick, graying beards.
"What the hell?" Greg mumbled.
One of the brothers bent down and grabbed the woman's leg. He pulled her back toward the truck as she kicked and screamed hysterically.
"Not again, no! Please, please just let me go!" she yelled.
"Shut up bitch!" the man spat back.
The darker man lunged forward and smacked her across the face then grabbed her other leg. "It's my turn now Henry!" he shouted and pushed the other man away.
Flashes of Mike came to mind. The brewing guilt in my stomach started to boil and I lowered my head. I couldn't believe this was happening again.
"We have to do something," I mumbled. Although I wasn't sure what we could possibly do.
I motioned to stand up and Greg grabbed my arm.
"You're going to get us killed," he grunted.
"She's gonna get killed," I retorted.
"If you go over there and the three of them kick our ass, what do you think is gonna happen next? Huh? Do you think they won't find your little family waiting back there? Do you think Alistair will stand a chance when he tries to protect his mom? And what do you think they'll do with the little ones? Best case, they're left in the middle of the woods alone."
He painted a pretty sullen picture. A picture that I hadn't come to accept until then. Sticking your neck out, trying to play the hero would only end bad for the people you loved. I had too much to lose and I had to make sure I looked out for my family first.
But it was hard, hard to watch and even harder to swallow. I didn't even know the woman, but I knew women. She was someone's wife, someone's mother, someone's daughter. And where were the men that were supposed to protect her?
"Please stop," the woman said in a faltering voice.
The man slid between her legs and thrust himself forward. The woman grunted and cried, but had no more energy to offer any real resistance. With an animalistic grunt, he ripped her t-shirt completely off then grabbed her behind the head and pulled her forward.
Kneeling there, behind the cover of trees I felt like a coward. I felt empty, like I was just as bad as the men that were raping her. I couldn't believe the world had been reduced to this in weeks. I hadn't realized how fickle the constructs that man had built were. It took nothing for them to fall apart, nothing for us to lose our morality and return to the cavemen that only knew one law, take what you can.
From behind those trees I saw the fall of humanity. I saw the end of the world and felt broken pieces of my own beliefs crumbling to sand. I saw what we were truly capable of, I saw mankind's deconstruction.
"Let's go," I whispered.
The woman had fallen silent and now the only sounds were the grunts and groans of the man entering her over and over. It was a sickening noise and I could feel the little bit of food in my stomach rumble toward my throat. With shame in my heart, I turned and headed into the forest.
Once we made it back I could see the worry written across Melinda's face. I was so happy to see her, I rushed forward and squeezed her in my arms.
"What happened?" she asked.
"Nothing," I replied and let her go. I looked her in the eyes and smiled. "Nothing to worry about."
That lie took a toll on me. I could feel physical pain as the words left my lips. That woman was most likely going to die. She'd probably be raped for days then murdered or left to the elements and I didn't even have the honor to admit that she was there.
"That was a lot of screaming for nothing to worry about," Melinda continued to press me. "Were there people out there? How many? Was everything okay?"
I looked past her and stared at Alistair then David and Charlie. Seeing their faces brought everything into perspective for me, at least I felt like it did. I'd made the right choice.
"Everybody here is safe Melinda. That's what matters. We need to get moving."
CHAPTER 14
THERE ARE ONLY HARD CHOICES
I had severely overestimated our ability to move through the twisted trees and underbrush or just how far we needed to go. We were now coming up on our fourth day in the woods and still hadn't made it to the narrow part of the highway to cross. Our water was running low and Greg looked like he needed an emergency room. I was starting to fear that the next morning he might not wake up.
"Hopefully this is our last night out here," I said. Then Alistair and I began to set up the tent.
We were in a small clearing we'd made with pocket knives, and elbow grease. The sun had already vanished and the dull haze remained that preceded darkness. That didn't matter much, we'd become pros at pitching a tent and I was certain we could do it blindfolded.
"Dad," Alistair started. "You've said that every night. I think we might just become permanent residents of the forest, woodland creatures."
I laughed and shook my head. It was good to see some of his sense of humor had survived all of this. I often times sat up at night wondering just how much of his innocence would be lost, before we found some kind of normalcy.
After a quick dinner and what we considered a ration-sized bit of water we tucked in for the night. David and Charlie were starting to get used to the tent life and we’re taking up much more room than was needed. It didn't really bother me that much though, I liked keeping them close.
The next morning, we woke up early, hoping to cross the highway before the sun was fully up. I knew we were close and moving through the fog at dawn was probably the safest way to travel.
While Melinda fed the kids breakfast, I handled the unpleasant task of waking up Greg. He had a thing about being disturbed and normally met intruders with whatever item was in arm's reach. The last morning I caught a boot to the side of my face for my troubles.
"Greg," I called from the front of his tent. "Time to hit it."
I waited a few moments for an answer. When he didn't reply, I poked my head inside
then entered.
"Greg."
A low moan was his response. With barely any light, I felt my way toward him and found him stretched out across the floor. His lips were cracked and chap and his skin was icy to the touch although he was covered in sweat.
"Greg...Greg can you hear me?"
His chest barely rose and fell as if he could hardly draw breath. Reaching across the floor, I grabbed his bag and pulled out a water bottle and a rag. I wet it then wiped it across his face and tipped some of the water into his mouth. He gagged and the water trickled down the side of his cheek.
"Don't you do this Greg," I grumbled. "Not now."
His eyes were glossed over and he seemed to be staring at nothing. His mouth was cracked and he exhaled a weak, shallow breath every few seconds.
I reached across him and pulled back the bandage that he'd wrapped around his shoulder. The smell alone almost made me vomit. The wound was nearly black with crusted puss and swollen skin surrounding it. It looked like it belonged on a corpse.
"Greg what the fuck!" I snapped at him. "I told you this needed to be looked at. I told you it would get infected."
He didn't respond. If anything, his breathing slowed a little.
"You have to clean this. You hear me? Fuck! I'll be back."
I turned around and headed for the door. As I stepped out Alistair almost ran me over and from the look in his eyes, I knew something was wrong.
"Someone's coming!" he said urgently.
I rushed toward Melinda and she'd already started packing up things and getting the boys ready to move.
"That way," she pointed. "I don't know how far, but I could hear them talking when I was throwing out trash."
I tried to hide my expression, but Melinda knew me too well. My face said it all and she started to press me for answers.
"What's going on?" she asked. "Who are they?"
"I don't know."
"Randall..."
"I don't know," I replied. "They could be the guys from the road the other day."
"You said that was nothing."
"Just...just stay with the kids...be ready to go," I said then grabbed the pistol from my bag and headed deeper into the woods.
I followed the direction she pointed in and I could hear faint voices after only a few steps. After about fifty yards I stopped and stooped down. A group of five men with rifles were barreling through the forest, not worried about hiding themselves. They moved quickly, but clumsily through the branches and twisted vines.
With a deep breath, I moved a bit closer, hoping to make out what they were talking about. I army crawled across the leaf-covered floor then tucked myself behind a patch of palmetto bushes.
"You really think they've survived out here for this long," one of the men said. He was dressed in hunting fatigues and wearing a red hat.
"They had food, they had water. They could live out here. We need to find them," another man declared angrily. "If we don't, we ain't gonna survive out here."
I could feel my heart jump. "Fuck!" I grumbled.
As quickly as I could without making a sound, I ran back to our little camp. Melinda had a terrified look on her face and she had every reason to.
"It's the guys from the neighborhood. They're looking for us," I told her.
"What? Why?"
"I don't know, but we have to go now."
"What about Greg."
I'd been waiting for that question and I still didn't have a good answer. Greg needed a doctor or he was going to die. There was no way around that. And there was no doctor.
"Take the boys and head that way," I pointed. "I'll get Greg. Go, and be fast...I'll catch up!"
For once in her life, Melinda didn't question me. She gave me a kiss then grabbed Charlie and David by the hand and led them off in the opposite direction.
Alistair hung back for a second. I smiled at him and patted him on the shoulder.
"I'll catch up, I promise. You keep your mom and brothers safe."
He gave me a skeptical look.
"I'll catch up!" I reiterated.
He nodded and then gave me a hug. I hugged him back and told him I loved him. He said the same and then with a pained face, he ran after Melinda.
Sighing, I headed back into Greg's tent. This was a moment that I'd been fearing for the last few days. The moment when he'd no longer be able to keep up with us and I'd be forced to make a decision. Him or my family.
I'd hoped the decision would come much later, but as fate would have it, my hand was forced.
"Greg," I called. "Greg, bad guys are coming. They want to hurt us and we can't stay here. We have to move fast, but I can't carry you and keep my family safe."
I paused and took another long, deep breath. "If you can move...if you can move at all, say something now."
He didn't respond. Just the same slow, shallow breathing. It sounded like a can rattling around on an empty street. It sounded like the whispers of death.
Why was I always here? Was it my sentence to be a witness to people dying until my time had finally come? What had I done to deserve this?
It sounded insane to even question it. Why complain when I was still here? Why should I pity myself when others had lost their lives? But I knew why, there were things worse than death and one of those things was seeing death all around you and not being able to stop it. I didn't want to be around death any longer.
"Greg," I called again with more desperation in my voice.
A harsh exhalation was his reply and it chilled my bones. Greg was gone, his body just didn't know it yet. He would join the growing list of unfortunate souls whose paths had crossed mine.
I stared at his pale face with sadness in my heart. He'd sacrificed his life for my family. If it wasn't for him we'd be dead. And now here he was, taking his last breaths in the middle of a forest.
I probably would've stayed there a little longer and gave him more chances, but I heard breaking branches and rustling leaves. Then I heard the men's voices. My decision had been made.
I grabbed Greg's bag and gave him one last look. Then grunting, I turned and rushed out of the tent and left him behind to die.
CHAPTER 15
ONE FOOT FORWARD
I ran through the twisted branches as fast as I could. In my panic to get my family away, I hadn't thought about how you could get lost just ten feet into the tangled forest. Now, I had no idea where they were, and even less of an idea on how I was going to find them.
I fought against the urge to yell for them. I knew the men had to be close and that made me think of Greg.
What would they do to him once they found him? Was he already dead? The guilt was starting to slow me down. I'd not only left him to die, but to get tortured and murdered.
The sun had started to rise and burn off the fog from the forest floor. My visibility improved, but all I could see were the gnarled branches of oak trees.
After nearly ten minutes of running I slowed down and leaned against a massive tree. I took some water out of my bag and gulped it down then wiped my face with the back of my hand. I looked around the wooded maze for signs, for any trace of where my family might be.
"Come on guys," I mumbled to myself.
With a deep breath, I straightened up. I adjusted my bag then took off at a jog the same direction I'd been going.
I ran for several minutes until the trees started to thin. The naked branches faded and the sky came through like a game of peek-a-boo.
Slowing down, I came to a stop in a clearing and stared to the heavens. It was a dull winter day, with long, drab clouds floating across a gray background. The sun was hidden behind the murky, swirls of sky and a single black bird sailed overhead.
A cool wind shook the skinny branches above me. They rustled together, making an ominous noise. I squinted and stared at them, completely missing the sound of footsteps coming up behind me.
"Don't move!" a man suddenly shouted.
I paused and felt my heart crawl into my
throat. A million different thoughts rushed through my mind and my head swam in confusion. I should've known the dangers of my new reality were always there, always waiting to catch me with my guard down.
"I don't want any trouble," I replied. "I'm just lo..."
"Shut up!" the man snapped.
I felt the barrel of a rifle push against the back of my skull. The icy, rigid metal tickled like death and froze my insides.
"Don't you move," he said again and pushed the rifle harder.
Clenching my fists, I waited in silence, wondering what would come next. Did he just want my stuff? Were there more people out there or would he just shoot me and leave me to die? I couldn't let that happen. Melinda and the kids needed me and somehow, I had to make it back to them.
"What do you want?" I asked.
He jabbed me again with the rifle and I grunted. Right then, I decided if I was gonna die, it wasn't going to be with some asshole shooting me in the back. If I was gonna die, I planned to put up one hell of a fight.
Moving slightly, I slid my hand up my leg and wrapped my fingers around the pistol I had tucked in my waistband. I immediately felt a sense of power and grinned at the poor bastard's stupidity of thinking he was the only one armed.
"What the hell are you doing out here?" he snarled.
"Same as you idiot," I said sharply.
I could hear him adjusting his grip on the gun and I seized the opportunity. Spinning around, I brought one hand across the barrel and smacked the rifle to the side. My other hand withdrew my pistol and I leveled it at the man's head.
"Don't move!" I growled.
The man paused and stared at me defiantly. He seemed to be measuring me, wondering if he could get away with charging the few steps and taking me to the ground. Wondering if I was the type to shoot and ask questions later or if I'd freeze at the moment when it mattered.
He was a dark-skinned guy with a nearly bald head. He had a hefty build, about six feet tall and his ashy fingers trembled as they clenched the rifle that hung at his side. That's when I realized, he was just as frightened as I was.
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