Through the Storm(50)

“Could he find me? I didn’t leave him a message about where I went.”

“He’ll figure out where you are.” Neal wasn’t sure about that and, without autos, Everett and Vancouver were days of travel apart. Minutes passed in silence. Finally, he asked, “It must have been hard watching Josh … your dad, these last few days.”

Claire nodded. “He felt okay for the first three days, but these last four have been difficult for both of us. He vomits up anything I try to feed him. He grimaces or shouts in pain, and the last twenty-four hours, he has been in and out of a coma.”

More silence passed between them.

Josh’s eyes fluttered open and, after a moment, focused on Neal. “Please … get Claire … to a safe place.”

“Yes, of course I will.” Neal had no idea where a safe place might be or how to get a woman five-months pregnant to such a location, but he felt obliged to commit himself to trying.

Josh smiled and closed his eyes. Over the next several hours, his breathing slowed, became labored, and then stopped.

*

King County, Washington, Saturday, September 10th

Conner’s legs ached and he needed sleep, but they pedaled south and Madison seemed encouraged as she pointed out trails where she had biked, jogged, or run.

They stopped only when darkness had made it impossible to see. Then, in the twilight before dawn, Madison had awakened and urged him on toward her home.

Several hours later, they entered a hushed Olympia. The lingering cool morning air felt good on Conner’s face as he struggled to keep pace with Madison.

The breeze rustled in his ears.

A bird called from a nearby tree.

The quiet of the city rattled his nerves as he waited for the rumble of traffic and machinery that he knew would never come.

Fifty yards ahead, Madison slowed her bike to a stop and stared at the hill before them.

Conner pulled up on her left.

“There.” She pointed at the top of the incline. “That’s where I live. I can almost see my house.” Madison’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “We can be there in ten minutes.”

Why couldn’t your house be at the bottom of the hill? Conner’s legs and butt ached, but he smiled weakly.

Madison stared at him for a moment and then she leaned over and kissed him on the lips. “Thank you for getting me home.”

Conner grinned at the surprise kiss. He leaned forward to kiss her back, but she had already returned her gaze to the hill.

She had helped him as much as he had helped her, but as Conner’s smile grew, he wasn’t going to quibble about the details. He didn’t want to lose her and so tried to imagine her joy at the reunion with family. He did his best to fix a smile on his face. “Let’s climb that hill and get you home.”

Engines rumbled in the distance.

Madison led the way to a freeway overpass. As they crossed, half a dozen military and civilian trucks rumbled south along the highway.

Conner stared at the unusual sight. I wish I could catch a ride with them.

Several small groups of men and women stared in silence as Madison and Conner pedaled up the hill.

Conner’s legs ached as if on a cross-country bike race, but it was only minutes. Finally, Madison stopped and stared at a small, single-story home. “Mom … Dad!” She dismounted, let her bike drop on the grass, and hurried toward the house.

Conner pulled to the front of the home.

She stopped. “The front door is ajar.”

Conner slid the rifle into his hand and took the lead as they entered the dark house.

Just inside, Madison stopped and wrinkled her nose. “That smell ….”

Conner tried to breathe through his mouth.

Death wafted in the air.

*

Rural Lewis County, Washington, Saturday, September 10th

While doing the morning chores, Drake heard the rumble of engines. A week ago, such sounds would have prompted little notice and no concern. Today, it stirred him to hurry his chores and jog down the road with his rifle.

As he rounded a bend, the pastor’s home became visible. Just beyond the house and church, a group of men and women stood in the road, watching two bulldozers level ground, clear bushes, and remove small trees along the east side of the hill.

Spotting Pastor Wayne, Drake strode over. As he drew near, another man hurried to the pastor’s side. “They’re dead. Both of them.” After delivering the message, the man hurried away.

“Hi. I didn’t think any vehicles worked.” The words left Drake’s mouth as his mind comprehended the impact of the man’s statement.

“Good morning.” The pastor smiled at Drake as if no one had just advised him about two deaths. “It’s the electronics that are the problem. These old diesel engines don’t have any computer chips, electronics, or fuel injection.”

Drake had only a vague idea of what fuel injection was, but if not having it helped the dozers work, it must be a good thing. The message of death still echoed in his brain, but no one seemed alarmed so Drake decided to ask later. “What are they doing?” He gestured at the dozers.

“Making a path for the next part of the fence.” The pastor pointed to a nearby pile of heavy wooden fence posts and rolled wire.

“Do you have enough fence wire to encircle the hilltop?”

“No.” He shook his head. “But we’ll go until we run out and then figure some other way to protect the neighborhood.”