Authors: Algor X. Dennison
At first she thought the kid had disappeared, but he popped out again when she arrived.
“
Here you go,” she told him, holding out the food. “This is for you. But can I ask you a question? We’re looking for a kid your age named Cody Bailey. Have you seen him?”
The kid froze and didn’t answer. Finally he spoke, but not to Carrie. “Mom?” he quavered into the darkness.
A woman in a blue sweater stepped out from the trees behind where the boy was standing. She had a pistol in her hand, and it was pointed at Carrie’s chest.
“
Who are you?” she asked. “And how do you know my boy’s name?”
Carrie smiled and held out her hands in a peaceful gesture. “I’m Carrie Alton. You don’t know me, but I joined up with McLean Ferrier and his survival group. Ron Hodges and Brad Edersheim are here, by the campfire, and Gordo Barros. If you’re Mrs. Bailey, we’ve been searching for you for several days now. Your daughter reached our ranch and told us you got separated.”
Tears began streaming down the woman’s cheeks. “How did you find us? What do you want us for?” she asked. “Did someone else tell you to find us?”
Carrie shook her head. “We’re just trying to help. Please put the gun down, ma’am. And come over by the fire. You have nothing to worry about now, I promise. You’ll see. You know these people.”
The woman hesitated a moment longer, then pocketed the pistol. She and her boy followed Carrie back to the campsite. Carrie told the others to take it easy and not crowd the two skittish fugitives.
“
I knew it was them!” Brad said. “Mrs. Bailey, we’ve been looking for you everywhere. Why did you hide from us?”
Mrs. Bailey stared back at Brad for a moment. “I didn’t recognize any of you on those horses. I didn’t know what to do. We’ve… we’ve had a hard time. We can’t trust anyone anymore.”
Carrie got them seated by the fire and gave them food and water. Gradually they opened up. It nearly broke Carrie’s heart to see little Cody, nine years old, wolfing down the food. But the gratitude and relief that showed through Mrs. Bailey’s stony face when they assured her that her daughter was safe warmed them all inside.
The next morning they held council. Mrs. Bailey could offer little more than her daughter had already told about the fate of Darren Bailey. She and Cody had been wandering the mountain trails since the incident at the campground where they lost Jamie. They’d managed to find some wild foods and scrounge enough to survive and keep moving, but they were both slowly starving and couldn’t find their way west. She was clearly suffering mentally and needed rest and rehabilitation.
They decided that Carrie and Gordo would escort them back to the ranch while McLean, Ron, and Brad headed toward Denver with Rory. Depending on what they found there and whether they could locate Darren, they would either return within two weeks, or send a message regarding their intentions.
The two groups went their separate ways, wishing each other the best. McLean and Carrie shared another kiss in parting, and McLean warned Carrie to resist the advances of JD and the others while he was gone.
“
I’m serious about this, you and me,” he told her. “You know I’ve had my eye on you for a long time. I’m not about to lose you to some knucklehead like JD just because he gets to stay home with you while I’m out and about.”
“
Hey, you never know what might happen,” Carrie teased. “You don’t have me locked down all the way yet, Mr. Ferrier.”
“
I like that you said ‘yet’,” McLean replied. “I will see you in a couple weeks. Don’t you forget about me.”
Gordo and Carrie led the two Baileys at a leisurely pace back toward the ranch with Marge Bailey and her son riding one of the horses. They took a more direct route than the southerly one they’d used on the way out. It took three days, during which Carrie got Marge to open up more about her family and what they had been through. She and Gordo assured the two unintentional prodigals that once they reached the ranch, they’d find all the security they longed for.
When they reached the ranch Marge and Cody were overjoyed to be reunited with Jamie, and she was just as relieved to see them. There were a lot of tears shed, both of joy and gratitude and also worry about their father and husband. Their fractured family could slowly begin to heal now that they had a safe place to live, but Darren’s loss left a hole that couldn’t be filled without seeing him again.
Meanwhile, McLean, Ron, Brad, and Rory set off at a much more rapid pace to the northwest, crossing the national forest as directly as possible. For several stretches the two slighter men, Rory and Ron, shared the strongest horse, and for the rest of the way one or two men would walk to spare the animals.
They had only one run-in with other people during the long trek through the heavily wooded hills and ravines. It was a group of hikers traveling westward on foot. They proved to be friendly and asked for information about the trail ahead. In return they advised the men that Denver was no place to be anymore, and to steer clear of the freeway, downtown, and Englewood as particularly dangerous hotspots. They said the National Guard no longer existed. Nobody was really in charge of more than a single neighborhood, and it wasn’t safe for anyone to roam alone or after dark due to lawlessness.
The gunmen who had played such a destructive role in the initial meltdown had never tried to seize power or control the whole city. They continued to spread fear and instability for the first few weeks and then gradually disappeared. Some thought they had moved on to other cities, sweeping across the region as an army of anarchy. Others said they had gone to join a larger force of evil masterminds to the east, where they could find the supplies they needed to keep up their reign of terror.
Their absence hadn’t improved anything, however. There were still plenty of criminals running loose in the absence of organized policing. No one dared organize anything beyond their local sphere of influence for fear of becoming a target for the opportunists and angry mobs that remained. The few authorities that had survived the first weeks were now cowed and desperate, hiding in their immediate communities and unable to drum up any support because of their failure to prevent disaster when it really mattered.
Some neighborhoods were better off than others, guarding their water and food fiercely. Many no longer existed, aside from empty shells of buildings and scattered trails of ruined property. Refugees were streaming eastward across the plains, but so far no definitive word had filtered back to suggest that there was any refuge to be found there. This group of hikers had opted to head west into Utah, willing to tackle the expansive mountain ranges on the chance that food and comfort would be found among the preparedness-conscious Mormon communities there.
They floated one other piece of information that was of great interest to the men from the ranch. Rumors had reached Denver about a prison camp set up in Colorado Springs. They couldn’t say who was running it or on what authority they were doing so, but just that more than one Denverite had been taken there and held in harsh conditions.
The men passed Green Mountain and left the forest the next day near Highway 67, hoping to come at Denver from the south. They were stopped at an overlook, scoping out the valley below through their binoculars, when an older man approached on horseback.
Chapter 9 : Storm Clouds
At first McLean thought it was his old friend Morgan. The man wore a similar ten-gallon hat and had a gray beard. As he came nearer he kept one hand on the reins and raised the other in greeting, but plainly showed the gun on his hip and the rifle in his saddle scabbard. Once he got close it was clear he was Latino and not quite so old as Morgan.
“
Hello there. Can you fellows tell me what you’re doing on my land?” the man called out.
Brad stepped his horse forward. “We certainly can. We’re moving toward Denver, just came through the national forest. Sorry to disturb you, but if you can tell us anything about the roads between here and the city, we’d be much obliged.”
The old man eyed the four of them and nodded, apparently liking what he saw. “I can do that. But I ought to warn you, don’t make any sudden moves or draw your guns for any reason. My sons are in the hills with rifles, covering me. Are we clear? It’s just that we’ve had to drive off more than one band of trouble-makers. We’re getting good at it, I’m afraid. But you won’t cause any trouble, am I right?”
The others heartily agreed, and the old man took a swig from a canteen he carried. Then he told them about conditions on the southern route into Denver, where the most highways robberies were taking place, and which parts were controlled by various groups that would either turn them back or charge them a fee for letting them through.
“
Frankly, though, I don’t recommend going into Denver at all,” the man told them. “Can I ask why you’d want to?”
Rory spoke up. “I’ve got someone there I’m hoping to find. My friends were good enough to accompany me, and they’re interested in knowing whether the city has begun to recover any semblance of order.”
The old man shook his head. “Heaven help you, son. There’s no order there, not that I’ve been able to determine. You go in there, you’re likely to not come out again.”
“
Can you tell us about a prison camp south of here?” McLean asked. “Some hikers we passed told us rumors about one in Colorado Springs, but they didn’t know who was behind it.”
“
That would be the anti-Constitutionalists,” the old man said. “They’re setting up a base there from what I’ve heard. No doubt they’ve got a prison, too. They don’t like anyone that won’t submit to their new way of doing things.”
The others looked at each other. “Did you say ‘anti-Constitutionalists’?” McLean asked. “Who exactly are these people?”
“
Well, that’s what me and my friends call them. They kinda came up out of nowhere, a real powerful group with a lot of resources and a lot of East Coast accents. Rolled in from Kansas City about two weeks back. I blame them for the whole meltdown. How else do you account for their working vehicles? Could be that there’s millions of them back east, slowly making their way out here to take over the whole country.”
“
Are they political?” McLean asked.
“
Some guy came up this way with a booklet he’d gotten from them,” the man replied. “It was full of reasons why America needs to be reformed, why the Constitution and all our former rights and laws can’t be depended on anymore. Bunch of trash, if you ask me. There are those of us that are willing to fight for our rights to our dying breath.” There was a dangerous glint in his eye as he said this. “How about you folks? I see guns, horses, and a cowboy hat. Are you the type to stand up for America?”
McLean and his friends glanced at each other again, unsure how to take the man’s bold words. “Absolutely,” McLean replied. “I can’t agree with much of what the government has done, or not done, over the past several years. But I believe in every line of the Constitution.”
The others nodded, and the old man grunted his approval. “Well, there’s a militia movement making preparations to repel any invasion from the south or east. It’s loosely organized and I couldn’t give any details about it, but you may find yourselves in the middle of it if you stick around these parts for long.”
They took their leave of the man, thanking him for the information and exiting his land as quickly as possible. As they rode straight north, they pondered what they’d heard.
“
If any of that’s legit, it could explain a lot,” Brad said.
“
And it could spell an awful lot of trouble brewing,” McLean said. “Maybe whoever brought the country to its knees had more in mind than just a reboot. Maybe they wanted to be the new kings.”
“
Bring it on,” Ron retorted. “If they want a fight, they’ll find a big one here in the West.”
“
It could just be an upstart group,” Rory said. “Somebody filling the power vacuum. Happens all the time in the Middle East and Africa. And throughout history.”
“
I dunno, he said they have trucks and communications,” Brad argued. “Like they knew how and when to shield it so they could bring it out after everyone else went dark.”
“
Somebody somewhere did it on purpose,” McLean said. “We know that much. This was no solar flare, and those gunmen in the city were either organized or at least tipped off by someone. Could be these anti-Constitutionalists were behind it, could be they’re being used by whoever was behind it. Or, like Rory says, maybe they’re just acting alone. But no matter what, I don’t like the sound of them. I don’t want an oppressive, un-American regime to come in here and fill the vacuum.”
Ron spat on the ground. “Maybe we should take a detour to the south. Find out who those bastards are, and see if we need to teach them a lesson.”
McLean shook his head. “I know you’re spoiling for a fight, Ron. But four men just aren’t going to take on an organized force with trucks and radios. Not out here, anyway, in their home court. Besides, Rory still has to get into Denver, and the city is a lot bigger of a problem than Colorado Springs is, and a lot more important to regional stability.