Authors: Suzanne Jenkins
They’d heard rumors of gang wars and disorder in the bigger cities but nothing about an organized rebellion. Maybe it was too soon for a leader to rise up. Something else that had bothered Chris was the absence of activity along the border. Recovering from his accident, he kept his eyes pealed on the border fence and hadn’t seen human life, when in the past the remote area was an open door to illegal traffic.
The berth had an accordion privacy screen Chris pulled aside. “I guess it’s time to get up,” he mumbled, the boys joking around at the dinette while Kelly flipped pancakes.
“Yep, I guess if you want to sleep in around here, you have to go where the boys are not,” she said, chuckling.
“Hey, grandpa woke us up!” Junior said.
“Bite us in the rear,” Ned repeated, the boys giggling hysterically. Kelly rolled her eyeballs, putting plates of pancakes down in front of each of them.
“Syrup?” she asked, and they shouted “yes.” A knock on the door, Kelly unlocked it to find Laura on the other side.
“Good lord, I could hear the laughter across the yard. What on earth is going on in here?” she asked, smiling at her boys.
“Kelly’s busted!” Junior said.
“Yeah, now Mom knows you cook,” Ned said with a mouthful. Kelly stood glaring at them with a spatula in her hand.
“I know she cooks,” Laura said drily.
“I should really spank the syrup out of you boys for that,” she said teasing. More rounds of laughter from the boys.
“Well now you’ve done it,” Laura said laughing. “We’ll have to
spank the syrup
out of my boys from now on. Scoot over, Ned. Yum, those look good. You made us delicious fried chicken and potato salad when we left Pennsylvania. I didn’t forget that.”
“Whatever,” Kelly said, smirking, but pleased. It was the first comment Laura made to her in days. She piled a stack of pancakes on a paper plate and slid it over to Laura. “Chris, you hungry?” He nodded, motioning for Junior to move over. Kelly poured more batter in the frying pan, making pancakes for everyone. Breakfast was fun and relaxing, but the adults felt that growing anxiety when something unknown was about to change. Only they thought they would be doing the changing, not that change was coming to them.
Chapter 17
Laura
Chris wants to go to Yuma today. He said he has a
feeling
about it.
“That cop who stopped us in Yuma warned me that if times were different, I’d be prosecuted for murder because of the plane crash. If I’d been alone, I’d have challenged her, but I didn’t feel right about doing it with Elise in the car. I know Grandpa Steve doesn’t think it would happen, but she could’ve had me arrested right there on the spot if times were different.
“The story about my family taking off also didn’t make any sense. I can’t believe they’d leave without trying to find out where I was. My plane is still sticking up out of the house I crashed into. My dad knew where I was headed; he’d have come looking for me within an hour of my expected return time. He’s a very practical man. The plane cost a hundred thousand dollars. If he knew I’d crashed, he’d try to find out what happened to me so they could collect the insurance for it.” I thought it was unlikely insurance companies were even functioning but kept it to myself.
“What do you want to do about it?” Steve asked.
“I’d like to head up there without Elise,” he answered. “She’s not going to like it, but I think it’s too dangerous for her to leave the camp.”
Increased danger was something we faced each day. We’d taken extra precautions since we’d found Candy and Jessica’s bodies after they were murdered. I’m angry because they’d taken risks that were unnecessary, which led to their death. The first time we met, I felt a connection to Candy. She was my age and I was looking forward to developing a friendship with her. I cared about Jessica’s baby, looking for baby things when we looted. We talked the whole time, sharing stories while we sorted through the belongings of dead people.
They were supposed to come to the camp for dinner last Friday and when they didn’t show up, Steve and I drove over to their trailer. They’d gone to the grocery store without us one last time after they’d promised they’d never do it. I found a box of pudding mix on the ground by the car, the canvas bags she used blowing around the yard, empty, as though someone had taken what they’d looted. I wondered if she was looking for the ingredients to prepare something special for us.
Raiders must have followed them from the store, murdering them as they tried to run into the house. Candy’s body was on the steps leading to her front door and Jessica was just in front of her, on the deck. Candy had obviously tried to shield Jessica with her body. It had just happened; their bodies were still warm. I turned Jess over, feeling for a pulse, feeling for baby movement. She was due any day. But the baby was still. I started to sob, but Steve grabbed me.
“There’s nothing we can do here,” he said urgently. “Let’s go. Their murderers may be watching us.” I let him pull me up, holding me as we ran to his truck. The next day, we armed ourselves and went back to the store. But just as we were loading the truck, a big, military-type Jeep full of filthy, yelling young men pulled into the parking lot and came for us. I thought they were the thugs who killed my friend and her daughter.
“Get in!” Steve screamed. “Draw your weapon!” I did as he said, but I was too frightened to shoot. My dad threw his truck in reverse and taking off on two tires as they pursued us.
“Take the wheel,” he yelled, when I hesitated to shoot. I steered the truck for him as he leaned out the window and shot the driver, the large vehicle careening off the road. It wasn’t until we saw them in a field that he felt like he could turn the car around and go toward camp.
“Keep your gun aimed at that Jeep and fire if they come at us,” he screamed.
“We’re fucked now,” I cried. “They’ll know our truck!”
“Don’t worry about that,” he said after a while, calming down. “We’ll take a different car when go next time, and another person to act as a spotter.” My heart was banging in my chest.
“Dad, we need to move on. I feel it. Being out here is too risky. I’m not sure how to find out where safety is, but there must be a way.”
Chris wanting to go back to Yuma was a gift. Living in the city would be safer than being out in the middle of nowhere, wouldn’t it be?
“I appreciate you not asking to take Elise with you again. But you shouldn’t go alone.”
“I agree, Laura,” Steve said. “I’d actually like to go along if you’re okay with it, Chris.”
“Ah, I don’t know how I feel about that, Dad,” I replied. “We need you here.”
“Who else should go? Mike has a family and Randy has Carol. I have an inflated opinion of my usefulness around here. Everyone, including Junior can all wield a gun as well as I can. Kelly, you too.” He turned to Chris, who looked confused.
“I’m inviting myself along. Is that okay?”
“Yes, sir,” Chris said, relieved. “I’m glad to have you.” I didn’t argue because he had a point. Kelly was cleaning up from breakfast and I caught the look she’d given Steve. He didn’t count her as someone left behind until he clarified himself.
“Kelly, are you game?” She looked up from the sink.
“To say goodbye to you?”
“No, knucklehead, to come along with us,” Steve replied, chuckling, my boys joining in, hearing
knucklehead
.
“Sure, I’ll come,” she replied, turning back to the dishes, but smiling.
“I’d like to go, too.” Junior was serious, sitting up straight, waiting. No one said a word at first, as Steve looked between Junior and me.
“I don’t think that sounds like such a great idea. It’s too dangerous,” I said, wishing I hadn’t sounded so lame.
“I’m almost as old as Chris,” Junior said. “And Grandpa Steve says I shoot better than Dad does.”
“Now you were supposed to keep that a secret,” Steve fired back, but looked at Junior, rubbing his chin.
“What do you think, mother? Junior here is right; he is one of the best shots. We might need him.”
Junior would be eighteen in a matter of days. He worked as hard as the rest of the adults in camp. And my dad was correct; we’d watched him use a gun safely, shooting the head off a snake. No one but me knew he cried later about taking its life.
“Don’t tell anyone, Mom,” he said, making me promise. He was also reading Steve’s history books about the world wars, which frightened me a little bit. I asked him about it.
“Junior, what’s in those books of grandpa’s that’s so compelling?”
“It was just like it is now, people running from something, but trying to make it right.”
“Do you understand…” I started to say, but Mike said to leave him alone.
“He needs to know what’s going on, Laura. Let him read.”
So that’s how four people from our camp left after breakfast for Yuma. Once they made the decision to go, they didn’t waste any time. Mike was making coffee when I got back to the trailer. I told him about the group leaving.
“Junior wants to go,” I said, standing at the counter. “I’m a little nervous about it, but can’t see any reason to make him stay here.”
“He’s growing up,” Mike said. “He’s proving himself to be responsible.
“So you don’t have any objection to it?”
“Outside of not wanting my son to leave, no,” Mike replied. “He’s in danger here or there, what difference does it make?”
“Boy, that sounds so hopeless,” I said. “I guess I sort of like having some control over our children.”
“Ha! That time is over. Look, we both know we’re playing a waiting game out here.” I thought of my false sense of security because we had a little bit of food.
Everyone had their hoarding security blanket. My dad’s was cars. He had an acre of cars lined up that he’d taken on his looting missions. Carin had a fabric hoard. Carol liked paper products; toilet paper and paper towels especially. Mike had tools. Randy had a storage trailer arsenal; gun safes looted filled to the brim with ammunition and guns of every make, even reloading his own bullets.
After leaving my house in Pennsylvania, the thought of leaving the camp; all my collected foodstuffs, my unfinished garden, was frightening.
We stood in a circle, wishing them safe travels, when Mike stepped forward. “I feel like I’m supposed to pray for you,” he said.” I’d never heard him pray. No one protested; it was such an unusual request for him to make, its need must have come from some spiritual place. Steve shrugged his shoulders.
“Okay, go ahead, but make it snappy.”
Mike closed his eyes, but didn’t request others to do so. I watched him carefully. His cheeks flushed, his thinness scaring me again. I hoped he was okay. “Everyone here is important,” he said, searching for words. “May you use common sense, stick together, watch out for one another, and stay safe.” He looked up and frowned. “That’s all.” Junior took Mike’s hand as we walked toward the car, a nineteen eighty-six Cadillac found at the side of the road in Tulip. When he didn’t drive his truck, it was his go-to car.
“I would have thought you’d take a truck,” Randy said.
“Outlaws can jump in the back of the truck. This car is fast and sturdy. It’s the next best thing to a tank,” Steve said. No one could argue with that. Provisions for the trip loaded in the trunk, the travelers hugged everyone goodbye. Elise was holding it together, but I could see she wasn’t thrilled with the turn of events, whispering something to Chris when he was trying to embrace her, pulling away from him. I wanted to warn her to take it while she could; they could very well not return, but I kept my mouth shut. Mike and I were focusing on Mike Junior who was acting as if he was going on a picnic with his grandfather.
They finally left, and it was with mixed feeling that I watched the car move down the road, a cloud of dust in the air behind it. I was worried about my son, but relieved that we were taking action possibly to find another place to live. Every new experience Junior was having seemed to propel him toward independence. The idea that he was part of something Mike and I weren’t involved in; perhaps the discovery of a new life for us, thrilled me.
Mike put his arm around my shoulder. “There goes part of me,” he said sadly. “But I feel it is positive for him. I’m happy.” He turned to look at me.
“What about you, Laura? Are you okay? I know how you like to sink your claws into everything.” I shrugged his arm off, but good-naturedly.
“You really have a losing personality, did you know that?”
“Yes, but it’s part of my charm,” he said smiling, eyes twinkling. But it wasn’t enough to hide the gaunt look he’s acquired.
“Hey love birds!” Randy was calling us. “Let’s watch a movie. I’m sick of working on this place, and if we’re going to leave it, what’s the point?”
I had to agree with him. It would be the first break any of us had taken in days. “A movie sounds good.”
Chapter 18
Approaching the outskirts of Yuma, Steve could already see a potential problem. A conglomeration of military vehicles from different branches, along with civilian cars parked along the way, men in and out of uniform worked at what appeared to be erecting fencing.
“None of this was here before,” Chris said. A pickup truck parked in the middle of the road was blocking the entrance into the city. A man in denim overalls and a woman in jungle fatigues waved the Cadillac down.
“What can we do for you?” The man asked looking down at the others in the car.
“We were curious about what’s going on here,” Steve answered honestly.
“Where you from?”
“I have a place out near the border,” Steve answered. “Near Tulip. We’re starting to feel a little vulnerable and hoped the city might be safer.” The man looked at the woman and she shrugged her shoulders.
“You been out there in the sticks the whole time?”
“Since the first burns started back east,” Steve answered. “I had the place for years. We ran here to hide when the trouble started.”
“How have you been gettin’ along?”
“Foraging,” Steve answered, a kind way of saying looting. “We’ve been waiting for something to happen.”