He was amazed how much life had changed for them and everyone else so quickly. They were probably isolated from the worst of it, being on this ranch that had gone off the grid before the world ended. Yet, even for Wilber and his family, the changes were drastic. They couldn’t use the power generated by the tower because the sun was still causing electrical discharges in everything conductive. Wilber had disconnected the cables running to the house after receiving the email warning before the first Event. They didn’t have transportation, or communications, or any of the other things they expected to have.
But they had food and water, two things a lot of people didn’t have, Wilber told them.
John thought about his wife and wondered how she was faring. They had lived separate lives for the most part, being married more to their work than to each other. “She will do just fine,” he said out loud.
Some massive pig—he remembered the name Jumbo, like in jumbo jet—below him responded to his words with a long squeal. “Dammit,” he said quietly this time, afraid to inadvertently alert someone somewhere down the hill.
“There,” he whispered. He could see two women down there. They were arguing about something in low voices, and farther toward Steve was a man who seemed to be watching the women rather than looking up the hill. They were all carrying rifles; all wore armbands and the same color shirt. Then, the women walked back. “Hopefully, they decided against this foolishness,” he said under his breath.
A few moments later, his son signaled him, the signal Wilber had taught them earlier: “Watch out—should be any time now.”
“No shit, really?” he said too loud again, and Jumbo responded in more oinks and squeals.
Then, oddly, Steve shouldered his rifle and bolted around the tree, down the hill, and out of sight.
Darla was anxious to get to where she had told Danny to meet her. She did not want to miss him, so she was rushing to get there first. Her anxiety grew from the uncertainty of their escape, and a nervous excitement to get back on the road and away from these crazy people. Was she really going to walk all the way to Tucson and then maybe to Mexico? It seemed ridiculous, but it was her family. She wished she knew where Steve was. Denver, Colorado is all she could remember, when he told her excitedly about his and his father’s quest for some place named after a bug… “Was it locust?” she thought out loud.
“What?” Joselin asked, directly behind her. “What about locust?”
“Oh, nothing. Sorry, was just thinking about where we were going to go next.”
“Can we go to the ocean? I’ve always wanted to go to the ocean.” Joselin’s words carried her smile to Darla’s ears.
“Have you ever been to Mexico?”
“Mexico? Oh, honey, that’s a funny one. I ain’t never been outside of Chicago before this world ended.” She fell behind a little considering Mexico, so she had to jog a bit to catch up with Darla, who hadn’t missed a step. “Are you thinking we’re going to walk all the way to Mexico?”
“Yep. You up for it?”
“Can we get a drink first? I’m awful thirsty.”
“Absolutely,” Darla said with confidence, as she saw the creek and the waterhole through the clearing they had just entered.
Joselin spotted the creek and ran for it, longing for some cool water.
“Whoa! Joselin, hold on, girlfriend. If you drink that shit, you’ll get sick,” Darla said, removing her backpack. She pulled out a bottle and unscrewed the contraption on top. “Here, get some water using this, but don’t drink it yet.”
Joselin did as she was told, leaning over the stream and collecting a full bottle of water.
Darla soaked a bandana in the water and tied it around her neck, relishing the coolness. She looked up, realizing her eyes had been closed, took the bottle from Joselin, and screwed on the top. Next, she opened the valve to drain the contents into another water bottle.
“Y’see, this thing has a carbon filter on it that filters most of the bad shit out of the water, like bacteria and contaminants,” she said as they waited for the clean water to work its way out. Joselin’s foot was tapping against a rock, as Darla drummed her fingers on the side of the second bottle. “I found it in a camping store during one of our supply runs. Anyway, this should be good,” she said, handing her friend the purified liquid.
“Yummy,” Joselin announced after the first gulp. “Damn, girlfriend, you are handy to keep around.”
Sam Snodgrass was careful where he walked, making sure to step on patches of grass or rock while avoiding any dead twigs or branches that would crack underfoot. He had run almost all the way to the highway, before doubling back slowly along the creek, and he finally heard the two female voices, although he was angry that the burbling of a stream drowned out what the voices were saying. He crept up to a clearing, seeing the deserters were getting a drink of water and pretending that everything was fine.
Sam lifted his rifle and waited. When they walked this way, or if the fighting started, he would jump out from the protective cover of the bush and mow them down. He smiled at the thought of telling Thomas after he had taken care of them.
Thomas, dressed in camo and carrying a military rifle with lots of extra magazines, was ready for the battle. Although every battle was different, he always got a rush from the fear and the killing. It became a salve for him, in addition to the Teacher’s words, all of which made him feel real again. Like a man.
He followed the course of the river on the opposite side of the Wright Ranch. He would start this battle and he hoped he would be the one who also ended it by taking out Wilber Wright before anyone else could. Where the river took a turn and moved away from the Wrights’ house, along the ridge, Thomas crossed the river and quietly trudged uphill. At a fence line, he stepped in something that smelled like alcohol. He swung up and over the fence and stopped, waiting and listening. When he was sure there was no one else, he moved up the hill, hugging the ridge line. His troops should be at the fence line waiting for his signal, which he hoped would be a shot that took out someone important: maybe Wilber Wright, the man that mocked him and the Teacher.
In no time he gained the top of the hill, where the Wrights’ home and supplies were. Beyond this point was a clearing with many buildings. A noise alerted him from behind: a clanging, metal on metal. Thomas turned to see a flash at the top of the windmill turbine tower, and then a couple more flashes, and then one flash. Morse code. Shit, I’ve been spotted. He worked his way back into the trees when he heard a small pop followed by a sharp pain in his side. Then, another pop and a pain erupted in his ass. Someone was shooting at him with a .22 from the tower. Another pop and his right ear exploded blood on his face. He ducked behind a shed that reeked of pigs.
He pulled up his shirt and saw that he had been hit good; the little bullet had gone in his back and come out his stomach. A shot of pain rocketed through him and he sat down, square on his right ass-cheek, which sent another bolt of lightning up his back. He felt the side of his head and found his ear was a muddled mess of flesh and blood dripping down. “God dammit.” How could some prick do this to him?