Read Escaping Home Online

Authors: A. American

Escaping Home (7 page)

Mike volunteered to do it, as he was sure he could jump over the top strand. Once he stepped in Danny turned the hot wire on and Mike started to cut the hogs loose. As he was cutting the last hog free, Sarge walked up with a palmetto stem, the end sharpened to a nice point. With a huge smile on his face he reached out and poked Mike in the ass with the stem. Mike jumped and tripped over one of the hogs before catching himself. He looked back at Sarge, rubbing his ass.

“You old bastard! I thought I backed into the wire!”

We all started laughing. Sarge crowed, “I knew you would! That's why I did it!”

Mike managed to jump over the top strand without touching it and snatched the palmetto stem from Sarge's hand. Sarge laughed and ran off before Mike could poke him in the ass with it. Jeff came back from the river with the rods and a bunch of bluegills on a piece of paracord. He held the string up for everyone to see. Little Bit ran up—she just had to touch them.

“How long did it take to catch them?” I asked as Little Bit ran her fingers over their scales.

“Not long, actually; they were biting real good,” Mike said.

Little Bit ran over, Mel and Bobbie behind her. She was jumping up and down and asked, “Can we stay here? It's fun!”

I smiled and rubbed her head, “
She
likes it,” I said, looking at Mel.

Mel frowned. “She's only eight and thinks of it like a camping trip. If we move here, who knows how long we'll be stuck.”

“Babe, this just a precaution. If we come here, it's because our home is no longer safe. It'll be better than sitting under some palm fronds in the woods.”

“I still don't like it; we need to try to stay home.”

“Mel, you need to wake up to the reality of the situation. You do realize what is going on around you, don't you? You know how many people are living in wretched conditions right now, no power at all, no clean water, no food, no safety? We still have all of that; if we come here we only lose running water”—I pointed at the creek—“but it's right there and it's not ditch water. We have the ability to make it safe to drink. There are probably millions of people right now who pray every night for that.”

She didn't say anything else, instead turning her back to me to help unload the trailer.

Everyone pitched in as we unloaded it. A lot of what we brought this trip could be stored outside, so we put it under the cabin. It was about three feet off the ground, so there was plenty of room. After making sure the guys didn't need anything else, we started to head out. Little Bit ran over to Sarge.

“Can I ride with you?”

Sarge knelt down to get eye to eye with her. “I don't know. Did you ask your daddy?”

They both looked at me. Fortunately for me Mel spoke up before I did. “No, you ride with us. It's safer.”

Sarge rubbed her head. “Sorry, sweetie, maybe next time.” He walked over to Mel. “You know I wouldn't do anything to hurt her.”

Mel smiled. “It's not that; it's not you.” She turned to look at the buggy, specifically the SAW hanging from its mount. “There's just a lot of dangerous stuff on there.”

Sarge considered and then smiled. “I guess there is.”

Heading home, I asked the girls what they thought about the cabin. Of course, Little Bit wanted to move there immediately. She said it would be living like the boy from the story of
My Side of the Mountain
. Taylor was all for it too. She liked the adventure of it.

“How about you, Lee Ann? What do you think?” Mel asked as she turned in her seat.

She shrugged her shoulders in reply, looking out the window. I adjusted the rearview mirror so I could see her. “What's up, kiddo?”

She was still looking out the window as she wiped tears off her cheek. Mel reached back and brushed her hair out of her face. “What's wrong? We aren't sure we're going to have to go there yet.”

“It's not that.” She sniffled, finally looked at Mel. “It's
everything
. I want things back to normal, I want to go to school, I want to see my friends, I want the Internet back.” She was really crying now.

“It's okay! At least we have the iPad to play with,” Little Bit said, trying to reassure her sister.

“What do I have to look forward to? Everything is ruined now; my life is over!” Taylor reached out an arm to pat her sister on the shoulder.

I couldn't help but feel for Lee Ann. In a way, she was right. All those things were gone for now, though probably not forever. But to a fifteen-year-old, it may as well be forever.

“Hey, it's not all gone forever, just for now! Everything is still here; nothing is gone. It's going to take some time, but all that will come back. It just has to be fixed.”

She rubbed her eyes and looked at me. “Really? You think it will all be fixed?”

I didn't want to lie to her, but at the moment I was more worried about her mental state. The thought that she may be slipping over the edge really worried me. “I
know
it will, just gonna take some time, baby, an' look at it this way, we're on an extended vacation of sorts.”

“Some vacation.”

“What, you don't like our postapocalyptic theme?” I asked with a smile, looking at her in the mirror. She cracked a bit of a smile back at me.

“At least there aren't zombies,” Taylor said.

“Don't talk about zombies; they freak me out!” Little Bit shouted, covering her ears.

Talking with the girls, I wasn't really watching the road. It was Sarge calling me on the radio that got my attention.

“Morg, we got company ahead. Stop here and wait. Let me go see what's going on.”

“Roger that,” I replied, slowing to a stop. Ahead, at the intersection of Highways 439 and 42, two old trucks were blocking the road.

“You good on that SAW, Danny?” Sarge asked.

“I hope so.”

“If anything happens, open up on 'em. Try to keep it to fifteen to twenty round bursts. Bobbie, take that carbine there.”

She replied, “I don't know how to use that thing.”

“Let's hope you don't need to use it. You just need to look like you do.”

Bobbie pulled the rifle over into her lap. Danny turned to show her where the safety was and reminded her to keep the muzzle pointed out the side of the buggy.

“Daddy, what's going on?” Taylor asked, fear creeping into her voice.

“I don't know. There are some people up ahead. Sarge is going to see what they want.”

Mel looked out the window and whispered to me, “I'm worried. What's going on?”

“Dad, I'm scared,” Little Bit said.

“Everyone just calm down; there's nothing to worry about yet. Just keep an eye out,” I said as I eased the truck ahead a bit to get a better view around Sarge's buggy. I could see Danny sitting behind the SAW and another muzzle sticking out from behind him.

Sarge stepped out of his buggy, M4 slung across his chest, and approached the four men standing by the two trucks. One truck was an old K5 Blazer, the other was an old Dodge Power Wagon. The Power Wagon was a faded green; it reminded me of the ones the Florida Game and Fish used when I was younger. The Blazer still had the military-style camo paint job. The two trucks were parked nose to nose on the center line of the road, blocking both lanes.

Seeing Sarge get out alone, I stepped out of the truck. “Stay here and keep your eyes open.”

“Where are you going?” Mel asked.

“I'm just going to back up the old man. You'll be able to see me.” Danny got out of the car too.

We walked up and stopped about five feet behind Sarge, just so they would know he wasn't alone.

The four men were standing shoulder to shoulder across the center line of the road, each of them with an AK clone of some variant with matching chest rigs full of magazines.

“Evenin', fellers.” There was no response.

Once Sarge was within ten feet of them, an older man with a full gray beard held out a hand. “That's close enough.”

Sarge looked each of them in the eye, holding his gaze on each just long enough to make them uncomfortable. The two younger ones each broke his gaze, glancing sideways at the older men.

“Are we goin' to stand here an' stare at each other all night or are you going to tell me what this is all about?” Sarge asked.

The man with the beard finally spoke. “I'm Calvin Long. We've seen you guys running up an' down the road with all this hardware and were curious who you were and what you were up to.”

Sarge raised his eyebrows. “I didn't know there was a law against runnin' up an' down the road.”

“Didn't say there was, just said we were curious was all.”

Sarge made a show of looking at the way the trucks were blocking the road. “There's friendlier ways to introduce yourself.”

“True, but you just can't be too careful these days.”

Sarge smiled. “I guess you're right about that. I'm Linus Mitchell.” Jutting a thumb over his shoulder, he continued, “And these are some friends of mine, Danny and Morgan and their families.”

Calvin leaned over to look past Sarge at Danny. “Some pretty heavy hardware you got there. You feds?”

Sarge laughed. “No, sir, we're not feds, I can assure you that. Actually they're the reason we're out here. We're moving some of our supplies to a new location in case we have to bug out.”

“All right. I'm Calvin Long. This is my son, Shane,” placing his hand on the young man's shoulder as he introduced him, “them other two are Dustin Tallent and Cody Graves.” They nodded as their names were announced.

“I was telling Linus here that we saw you guys running around and were curious what you were up to. We've been watching the feds run around and have been trying to figure out what they were up to.”

“That's about it. We've had some trouble, so just to be safe we're setting up a fallback location. Where are you guys from?” I asked.

“We're from Paisley, but with all the trouble we moved up to Pat's Island,” Calvin replied.

“Damn, that's a long ways to go,” Danny said.

“That's why we're up there, no one around,” Dustin said.

“Have you guys seen the camp?” Cody asked.

Danny, Sarge and I shared a glance. “Yeah, we've seen it. Looks like it's getting bigger,” Sarge said.

“It is. There's buses coming and going every day. We see 'em on Nineteen,” Cody said.

“Bringing people in or taking them out?” Sarge asked.

“Both,” Calvin replied.

“We haven't see any of them down this way,” Danny said.

“They use Nineteen to go north and Forty for east and west movement.”

“Makes sense; it hits Ninety-Five to the east and Seventy-Five to the west, they can go anywhere they want,” Sarge said.

“If you guys are staying all the way up there, what are you doing down here and how did you see us?” Danny asked. I got the sense he wasn't buying their story.

“We come down to the store in Altoona to trade for gas, and the old woman told us about you guys. We thought we would introduce ourselves,” Calvin answered.

“You guys got any radios?” Sarge asked.

“No, sir, wish we did, but there's a group north of us that has a HAM.”

Hearing that struck me. “North of you guys?”

“Yeah, up near Salt Springs.”

“Over by Lake Kerr?”

Cody's eyes narrowed. “You know 'em?”

“No, just heard some radio traffic is all. We got HAMs too.”

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Calvin spoke. “It was good to meet you guys. Maybe we'll run across each other again.”

“Look forward to it,” Sarge said as he dug into his blouse pocket, pulling out a notepad and scribbling something on it. “Here is a frequency on the forty meter we monitor; call sign is Stump Knocker.”

Calvin took the paper and looked at it. “Thanks, maybe we can stay in touch.”

“We need to; not enough of us around right now,” Sarge replied.

Calvin nodded and turned toward his truck with the others, and soon they were loaded up and pulling away. We watched as they took the dirt road to the north of the intersection. I knew it ran to 445, a road that would eventually take them to Alexander Springs, the source of the river by the cabins.

Once they were gone, we started walking back toward the vehicles. Sarge looked over at me. “You know something about that other group?”

“Maybe. On my way home I ran into a group on the west side of Lake Kerr; they seemed like some pretty good guys. They used my radio to call a boat from the other side of the lake, but a couple helos showed up and they engaged it after they shot up the boat.”

“Let me guess how that ended.”

“Pretty much exactly as you can guess. Only one of them got away. I ran and hid, wasn't about to try to engage two birds.”

“Ain't nothing wrong with running,” Sarge said, slapping me on the back. “Let's stop by that store on the way in. I'll tell that old woman I'll bring that pig over in the morning.”

“Sounds good to me. I'm getting hungry,” Danny said.

I went back to the truck and climbed in. “What'd they want?” Mel asked.

“Just curious who we were and what we were doing.”

Mel shook her head. “What gives them the right to stop us like that? What's wrong with people?”

“No harm, no foul. They're all right. I think I may know someone in their group. Who knows . . . they could be helpful later.”

Chapter 11

M
ary gently shook Jess's shoulder. “Jess you need to get up. We're on kitchen duty today.” She didn't respond. Mary shook her again. “Come on, Jess. I know you're upset, but you need to get up.”

Mark stepped into the tent, Singer following closely behind him. Mary began to panic. “Hurry up, Jess!” As Mark approached them, he looked at Jess and asked Mary, “What's wrong with her? She sick?”

“No, her brother died yesterday. He's been in the clinic since they got here.”

Singer came up from behind Mark. “What's going on? Get up; we have to be in the kitchen in ten minutes.”

Mark looked at Singer. “Leave her alone today. She needs a day off.”

“Why, what's wrong with her?”

“Her brother died yesterday. Give her some time to grieve.”

Singer frowned and said to Mark, “People are dying every day. Doesn't mean you can give up your duties here.”

Mark turned to look at her. “What's your name?” he asked as he looked at the name tag sewn to her uniform. “That's right, Singer.”

“It's Joanne.”

“Well, look here, Joanne, how many people in
your
family have died?”

Mary looked away to hide the smirk on her face. She certainly didn't want Singer to see it.

“Irrelevant, Deputy.” There was a definite smack of sarcasm to the last word.

“Well, for today she gets a pass. And if anyone doesn't like it, they can come see me.”

“What if
I
don't like it? She works for me.”

“Irrelevant, Agent Singer.” Mark smiled and walked off before she could say anything.

Singer looked at Mary with a sneer. “Get in formation. We have work to do, and you'll be scrubbing pots all damn day,” she barked.

Mary quickly headed for the door. Singer watched her go, and once Mary was outside Singer leaned down toward Jess.

“No one tells me what to do, you got that? No one.” She waited for Jess to respond, and when she didn't, Singer snorted and headed for the door.

Jess didn't care what they did to her right now. She was alone; her entire family was gone. She could hear Singer outside shouting at the other women. She decided then that one day she would break that bitch's nose, and the thought of it made her chuckle to herself. It was the first time she'd laughed since her brother had died. She sighed, reminiscing about when she'd laughed much more often. Soon enough, she drifted off to sleep. The dream she had was so vivid, she thought it was real.

She looked at the clock. Ten minutes to finish. Answering the last question, she flipped the test over and went through the answers again, paying attention to the ones with stars beside them. Feeling confident, she took the answer sheet to the front of the class and dropped it in the basket on her professor's desk and headed for the door.

It was Friday and she was ready to party. Hopping on her bike, she headed across campus to her dorm, racing the storm that was coming in. She was back in her dorm, picking out clothes to wear that night, when a bolt of lightning lit up the room. Then the thunder came, a terrible bang followed by a long continuous low rumble. She looked out the window—another bright flash. She closed her eyes, then the thunder came again.

When she opened her eyes, it took a minute for her eyes to focus. After a moment she realized it was just a dream; she was still in the camp and not at FSU. Jess closed her eyes again as tears started to run down her cheeks.

After napping fitfully for another few hours, she got up to use the bathroom. The blinding sun stung when she opened the door, forcing her to shield her face with her hand. As she headed for the latrine the sound of diesel engines caught her ear. A number of buses were pulling into the reception area. There seemed to be more and more of them lately. She stopped on a small platform and looked at the mass of people.

They look worse every day,
she thought as the dirty, gaunt forms staggered off the buses.

After using the toilet she went to the sinks located on the opposite wall. Jess gripped both sides of the sink and looked in the mirror. She stared at the face looking back at her. It was almost unrecognizable. When she left FSU to go home for the break, she was young and attractive. While she was still young, she felt as if she had aged thirty years. There was nothing attractive about the face in the mirror.

When she exited the bathroom, the buses were still there, engines idling. Usually they left as quickly as they were unloaded. She could see the drivers and their security personnel standing around by the open doors.
What are they waiting for?
she thought to herself. The thought had barely passed through her mind when a large group was led toward the buses. As long as she had been in the camp, Jess never saw anyone leave under any circumstances, so it was quite odd to see people lining up to board the buses. Was there a way out of this godforsaken camp?

Back in the tent, the women were chatting away. Donna saw her and approached, holding little Chloe by the hand.

“How are you doing?” Donna asked as she sat beside her on the cot, pulling the child up onto her lap.

Jess scooted away from her a little and smiled. “Better, I'm feeling better.” She smiled at the little girl and smoothed her hair.

Donna smiled. “Well, if I can help, you just let me know.”

“I will, thank you.”

Donna rose and went to her bunk. Jess looked around for Mary and found her by the door talking with a couple of the other women. Mary saw her and walked over, Fred closely behind her.

“How was work today?”

“It was work,” Fred said, looking around the tent before reaching into her coat pocket. “We didn't see you come for lunch, so I brought you something.” She produced two small corn muffins and handed them to Jess.

“Hey, thanks! I didn't realize I was hungry till now.” She took the muffins and put them under her pillow. Better to hide them, as it was illegal to smuggle food to the tents.

Mary smiled and patted Jess's leg. “I was worried about you.”

Jess smiled. “I know.” She paused for a moment. “More buses came in today. The weird thing was that they loaded a bunch of people from here, and I think they took them away.”

Fred sat on the cot across from Jess. “We knew something was going on. They made us fix a bunch of bag lunches.” She looked at Mary. “They must have been for them.”

“I wonder where they went. And, jeez, I wish I could go with them. I want to get the hell out of here,” Jess said quietly.

“I'm with you,” Fred said.

Mary had a nervous smile. “I don't know. It ain't so bad here.” She paused, looking off into the distance. “It's a lot worse out there.”

“I don't know about you, but I'd rather be free and have to find my own food and shelter than be stuck here,” Fred said.

“Food and shelter aren't what I'm worried about,” Mary said flatly.

“There are some people around here who could help us”—Jess nodded toward Donna—“and she knows where they are. My friends Morgan and Thad are from her neighborhood, and it's not far from here. They'll help us.”

“Even if we knew where their neighborhood was, how would we get out of here?” Mary asked.

“Where there's a will, there's a way,” Fred said. “I'm heading back to my bunk, girls. I'm
exhausted
.”

As Mary and Jess continued talking among themselves, they could hear buses pulling into the camp. Curious, they went outside to look down the hill at the reception area, which was filled with people.

“See, look at the group lining up over there. They're going to board the buses,” Jess said, pointing.

Suddenly a few people at the head of one line broke out and began to run toward the lead bus. The driver and security agent standing by the door were quickly overwhelmed as some began boarding the bus while others took the weapons from the security agent. Someone was standing in the door of the bus waving at those still in their lines, urging them to get on.

As the camp siren screamed to life, the two women quickly knelt down. Gunfire erupted down the hill. People began to scream and run.

“Oh my Lord, they shot a man!” Mary cried. They watched as a body crumpled and fell out of the bus.

Jess had her hands over her ears as gunfire filled the air. A thick cloud of black smoke erupted from the bus. It lurched forward and began to roll, sideswiping a row of Porta-Potties and knocking several of them over. Security forces scrambled around firing at the bus, and then the shots rang closer. In what seemed like an instant, rounds started cracking over the heads of the two women.

“They're shooting into the camp!” Mary shouted.

Though they couldn't see the bus from their prone positions on the ground, they could hear it gaining speed. More security personnel ran past them toward the reception center. One stopped just past them and began firing at the bus, shooting across the camp to do so. He quickly ran off in the direction of the fleeing bus.

“I don't hear the bus anymore, do you?” Jess asked.

“No, the shooting is stopping too,” Mary replied.” I can't believe they were shooting into the camp! They could've killed someone.”

Jess slowly rose as the siren began to wind down. “It looks like they did.”

Mary rose to her feet beside her. “Oh my gosh,” Mary said, covering her mouth, “there's so many of them.”

A number of bodies were scattered around the buses and the reception tent. The security force was quickly rounding everyone up, leaving the wounded unattended. Both those just arriving and those who were to board the buses to leave were being pushed into a large group, their hands on their heads.

Mary shook her head. “Maybe you are right, Jess. We're no safer here than we are out there.”

Other books

Sea Glass Winter by Joann Ross
A Paris Apartment by Michelle Gable
Shards of Us by Caverly, K. R.
Gameplay by Kevin J. Anderson
Eleven by Karen Rodgers