Their options were few to begin with and seemed to be dwindling by the minute. Harold’s eyes came open slowly and he pushed himself upright. “What are you doing in my house?” he bellowed.
“It’s all right,” Gertie said, returning with a glass of water. “You collapsed out in the barn. If they’d meant you harm, they would have simply left you there.”
Harold grunted and gulped the water down in two mouthfuls.
The heat from the fireplace begged them to draw this moment out as long as they could. But the blood Harold had coughed up earlier had made it clear the longer they stayed, the sicker they would become.
“The gentleman here thinks you’re suffering from radiation poisoning,” Gertie told him.
Nate reached into his bag and produced three potassium iodide tablets. “Take one of these every twenty-four hours. I know it isn’t much, but at least it should counteract some of the effects.”
“But why me and not you?” Harold asked, taking the pills and glaring down at them.
“Everyone’s different,” Dakota said, answering his question. “Age might play a factor. Along with genetics. It’s hard to say, really. There are so many variables.”
“And how do you know that?” Harold asked, skeptically.
“My intro to biology class,” she replied. “It was the only class in school that I liked.”
Harold let out a quiet snicker. “Never had much use for school and I don’t think it had much use for me either. Got all my education working the land, growing corn and what not.” His eyes glazed over for a moment, lost in a bout of nostalgia.
Gertie reached down and rubbed the side of her husband’s stubbled face.
“We appreciate your hospitality,” Nate told them. “But Dakota and I need to be getting on. Now that we know someone lives here, is there a way we can buy two of your horses?”
One of Harold’s eyebrows perked up. “Suppose it depends on how much.”
“You weren’t watching the news before the lights went out, were you?” Nate asked.
“Gertie watches the television. Not me.”
“It looks like the same people who cut the power also crashed our major financial institutions.”
“So you’re saying you have no money,” Harold replied, pushing himself up on one elbow. “That takes ‘the check’s in the mail’ to a whole new level.” Gertie smiled too and Nate had no choice but to grin and bear it.
“Cash won’t do you any good,” Nate told them. Not least because the town was empty of people and cash registers wouldn’t be operational for months, if ever.
“All right, give me your best offer then,” Harold said, one hand pressed down into the sofa cushion as he propped himself into a seated position.
Nate grew quiet for a moment, searching through his bag. “How about three more potassium iodide pills, a can of beans and six double-aught buck shotgun shells?”
Harold’s gaze moved to the AR Nate had rested against the seat next to him. “I like your rifle.”
“I can’t give you the AR, I’m afraid. But I can throw in my Remington 870 pump-action shotgun along with twelve shells of double-aught buck.”
“Plus the pills and whatnot?” Harold’s road-map eyes were gleaming.
“Sure, why not.”
The old man held out a meaty paw. “Deal then.” They shook. He turned to Dakota and did the same. “Pleasure doing business with you, young lady.”
The smile on Dakota’s face wavered and then fell. “Now I just need to figure out how to ride a horse.”
Chapter 28
Thirty minutes later, Nate and Dakota were back in the barn, making some final preparations before they departed. Gertie came with them, if for no other reason than to be sure they got what was owed to them in the trade.
Both horses had a name, which surprised neither Nate or his young traveling companion. The chocolate-colored mare was called Sundae, as in a chocolate sundae, probably on account of her dark coat. The Appaloosian male with his camo-patterned design of white and brown hair was called Wayne, as in John Wayne. Like the actor, the horse was robust and brimming with quiet confidence. By comparison, Sundae was strong-willed and prone to whinny at the slightest provocation.
Once the saddles and bridle had been fitted, Gertie brought them each a set of leather saddle bags. “Won’t have much use for these, not with the riding horses gone. You might as well fill them with carrots and what not. Sundae’s got something of an appetite.” The old woman smiled warmly. “Oh, and you should also take one of these each.” She pointed to a bushel of hay. “With this weather, there won’t be any grazing. The food you carry is all you’re likely to get.”
They thanked her, each taking turns giving her a hug. Nate wanted to bring both of them along, but he also knew that was far from realistic. Harold was far too sick to travel. Even more apparent was that Gertie would never leave his side. Their only salvation lay in the hope that this would all soon be over.
Nate then took a moment to go over the basics of western-style horseback riding. Now that this had gone from idea to a full-blown reality, Dakota’s face had started filling with tension. Her lips were drawn into a thin line and her pupils were dilated. “For starters, use your heels to get her going and the reins to steer. If she starts going too fast, pull back on the reins, but not too hard. You’ll be behind following. Chances are good Sundae here won’t want to let Wayne out of her sight, so just let her do all the work.”
Dakota nodded and swallowed.
“You’re a brave young woman,” Gertie said, rubbing her back. “I wish growing up I’d had a pinch of your gumption.”
Nate helped her onto Sundae, before he mounted into his own saddle. Wayne backed up a few feet, blowing warm air through his lips until Nate used the reins to bring him to a stop. For her part, Sundae led Dakota over to a bale of hay and started eating.
“Don’t forget who’s boss,” Nate reminded her.
Like an old pro, Dakota swung the reins to the left and nudged Sundae with the heels of her boots. The horse grunted and then complied.
Together, they headed out of the barn and back into the deep snow.
In short order, they retraced their steps up the drive and back onto the road. The horses seemed to have a slightly easier time of it, especially in well-traversed areas. Although the real test, Nate knew, was yet to come.
Give or take, there were still four or five hours until the sun went down. With any luck, they would find somewhere along the highway to camp overnight and be in Rockford early the following morning. Their arrival would also mark more than reuniting with loved ones. It would mark their departure from the exclusion zone and the radiation that was already busy claiming Harold’s life and probably his wife’s too.
Within thirty minutes, Dakota was comfortable enough to break the follow-the-leader routine and bring her horse alongside his.
“Wayne’s got bad gas,” she said, waving her hand in front of her nose. “Wind’s blowing it right in my face. Sundae may not mind, but I was about to puke.”
Nate let out a resounding belly laugh. “Maybe he’s allergic to carrots. I’ll keep that in mind at snack time.”
They reached Blackhawk and turned left. Eventually this road would become Highway 2. Along the way, a handful of mounds marked the location of abandoned vehicles, buried in the snow along with whoever had opted to stay huddled inside. He couldn’t help recalling Jessie, the woman he’d met yesterday, hiding in her car, waiting for someone who would probably never show. The more time passed, the more certain he was becoming that just such a scene was playing out all over the country.
While to the north the enemy might be the cold and the snow, further south, the heat was an adversary no less deadly. Technology was what we used to ease our discomfort. Too cold? Crank the heat. Too hot? Throw on some AC. He swallowed hard, thinking of Amy. Funny how even the most random trains of thought had a habit of leading back to her. By this time tomorrow, she would be back in his arms. Nate didn’t simply want to believe that. He needed to. Anything to keep pushing back against that freezing arctic wind.