Through the Storm(10)

Perhaps all of this might prove to his father and older brother that he could be responsible.

Exhausted, Drake dragged himself to the living room and slumped into a chair. Now all he had to do was wait for his dad and brother to come home.

*

Lane County, Oregon, Sunday, September 4th

The city of Eugene burned. A line of flame rose along the south end of town. Winds fanned the inferno and blew black, acrid smoke across the freeway.

Neal’s car remained the only vehicle moving. He shut the windows, to block the smoke and the growing cries of people.

On his left, a large American flag fluttered in the direction of the freeway. The winds were blowing the inferno his way. In some places, small fires already burned beside the road, but the wall of flame remained hundreds of yards away. Ahead, on his left, dozens of people jumped over the concrete barrier and ran across the lanes to escape the blaze.

Neal eased off the gas pedal to avoid hitting anyone. The memory of the gunfight remained fresh and raw in his mind, preventing him from stopping to assist others. Perhaps there wouldn’t be another gun-toting thug, but groups of people were already forming along the highway. A mob driven by fear and flames might arise in an instant.

Weaving past cars and people, Neal crept along at twenty miles per hour, yet he needed to go faster to avoid the fire and not be surrounded by panicked people. Were his boys safe? He yearned to be home.

A man with a backpack ran across the highway, followed by a woman holding the hands of two children.

Farther down the road, another woman sprinted across in her bathrobe.

Three deer dashed past the woman.

As Neal rounded a curve, a wall of flame greeted him. Blown by the wind across the freeway, the fire engulfed the cars and trucks ahead.

He pressed the brake and slid to a stop.

A fist slammed against the driver’s side window.

*

Rural Chelan County, Washington, Sunday, September 4th

Conner’s feet hurt and the rifle sling dug into his shoulder.

How far had he walked? How much time had passed?

He had seen three dead people earlier in the day and not one living person. Those were the only facts that concerned him now. He shook his head and stared at the pavement, trying to shake the images of the dead from his mind.

On a holiday weekend people should be driving along the road, but for mile after mile, he saw no one. No planes flew overhead. No distant horns. No backfires or gunshots.

The screech of a hawk prompted Conner to lift his gaze. He spotted no bird in the sky, but when his gaze returned to the road, he noticed a pickup, with a boat and trailer behind, less than a half mile away.

“Hello!” Conner shouted and waved his arms as he ran toward the vehicle.

No sound came from the gray truck. It wasn’t moving. The boat was just the right size for a couple of guys and a day of fishing. The driver must have been headed for the lake where Conner’s truck remained, but why had they stopped?

Out of breath, he slowed to a jog and then walked as he drew near. The gray pickup sat silent and still on the road’s shoulder.

“Is anyone here?” Conner looked about. Coming out this way, guys often drank too much coffee or beer and needed to stop for a short walk into the woods. “Hello. Anyone here? Uh … there’s a wreck back up the road.”

The breeze rustled in his ears.

Feeling like a car prowler, Conner tried both doors and found them locked. Did the truck break down? Did they run out of gas? He couldn’t see the gauge.

Certain the driver would soon return, Conner considered waiting, but there were no side roads for miles. If he continued toward town, he should meet anyone returning to this truck. So, as the sun continued its trek across the sky, Conner continued his trek toward town.

Several hours later, as the shadows deepened, he thought of camping for the night, but for perhaps the first time in his life, he felt the need to talk to someone. Despite hunger and fatigue, he continued along the lonely road.

No moon rose to push back the growing blackness. Only a few stars dotted the night sky when Conner spotted something a couple of hundred yards down the road. At first, he thought it might be another vehicle but then wondered if it were a large animal, like a bear.

Conner eased the rifle off his shoulder.

Whatever it was, it didn’t move.

Over the next few minutes, he stepped closer.

As his eyes adjusted to the night, he crept nearer until finally able to confirm that another auto sat silently along the road. This vehicle was smaller than the first, a two-door sedan.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

Just like earlier, this vehicle appeared to have simply stopped and the driver had disappeared.

“Are you okay? Did you run out of gas?”

He edged forward but couldn’t see anyone. Still, he decided to talk as if he did. “Uh … I need to get to town.” He crept nearer and pointed up the road. “My truck broke down at the lake and there’s a wreck.”

Now next to the car, he knew no one remained inside. Conner tried the driver’s door. It opened. The keys hung from the ignition.

Feeling like a car thief, he left his rifle by the door, sat down, and turned the key.

Lights came on. The gas gauge showed over half a tank, but the engine emitted no sound.

Just like his truck, the lights and gauges worked but not the engine. That’s weird.

The dim light from the dash revealed a book and half-eaten candy bar on the passenger seat. Had they left suddenly? He picked up the book and it fell open, revealing it to be a Bible.