The Family Read online

The Family

  By Darrel Bird

  Copyright 2011 by Darrel Bird

  Part 1

  The Family-The Beginning

  We weren’t ready. That was the thoughts of everyone, we weren’t ready, but how does one get ready for the world economy to go to hell in a hand basket? Its like getting caught in a snow slide. The economy slid, and it slid hard and fast. Fuel got so high the truckers couldn’t make a living, and walked off the job, leaving their expensive big rigs that got six miles a gallon if they are lucky. The government promised them relief that didn’t come, and they finally gave up; stopping their rigs at terminal’s, freeway off ramps, and interchanges.

  It had been a heavy winter, and folks in Maine who depended on fuel oil for heat didn’t get their shipments, and many tried to make home made wood stoves to bust up the furniture for burning, and many of those home made wood stoves caught houses on fire, burning them to the ground, thus throwing an additional load on their friends, family, or neighbors.

  When the trucks quit running, the food, what there was left of it, never reached the stores. The oil had reached its peak in seventy five or seventy eight, depending on who was giving out the numbers. Maybe it was a government created shortage. Nobody really knew, but like a snowball rolling down hill picking up more snow as it went, it affected everything.

  Sean Bernard had been a machinist in the same machine shop in Bangor Maine since a year after high school, and he had been out of work for six months, and so had his wife Carla. He was twenty four years old that year when his son Bobby was born. The government gave him a few welfare checks which affected him more than being out of work. They had a house out on Diximont road that he had purchased three years after he went to work, and he could catch the 95 freeway into Bangor to work. They had an acre of ground, and he had extended his vegetable garden when the job ended. Without a pay check for either one of them there was no gas to get into Bangor if there had been any gas, which there wasn’t, so he and Carla holed up, and hoped things would get better.

  Sean owned a single shot, single barreled shotgun he had inherited from his dad which he had stuck back in a back closet, and forgot about, along with a box of shot shells whose brass ends were turning a slight green and the red on the wax paper was turning pink.

  Sean wouldn’t hurt a flea if one got on him. He would pick it up, and set it down to run for the dog…not that he had fleas. With the garden, and the green house they were able to feed themselves a little, and when the power went out, they both adjusted to living like people did a hundred years ago. That is until the first of March when five toughs from out of Bangor came into the yard, armed to the teeth. He was grunting against the push mower which he kept sharp, oiled, and hanging neatly in the garage when it wasn’t in use.

  “Mister…just put that mower down,” one of the men said, pointing an automatic rifle at him. It looked like one of those military jobs with a long banana clip hanging out the bottom.

  “What’s going on Sean?” Carla called from the back door.

  “Go back in the house Carla”, he said without taking his eyes off the man that held the gun. “What do you fellows want?”

  “Everything… get your old lady, and get out! Otherwise I kill you where you stand!”

  “I can give you something to eat if you’re hungry.” He had heard about the riots, the looting, and the burnings going on in Bangor from a neighbor who lived about a mile away, but they had been pretty well isolated out here with the surrounding woods, and timber lands.

  “You better do what he says, Cap is pretty bloody, come down to it.” Another of them spoke up. He grinned widely, showing tobacco stained teeth, as he spat in front of him and raising his own rifle a tad. Another of them came over, whacked him upside the head with the barrel of his rifle, and he fell into a garden row. He looked up dazedly at the bright blue sky and to his right; saw the turnips, and to his left he saw a tiny cucumber under a leaf of the vine that was growing huge leafs. The first one he had seen this year.

  He felt something begin to drip in he left eye. It was his own blood where the rifle sight had cut his head open. He got up and stood unsteadily, and began walking toward the back door. His eyes took in the well maintained white house with the bay window upstairs he had had such a hard time painting last summer.

  Carla was standing in the door crying, and he thought he had heard her scream, but it could have been the shooting pain across his head when the guy laid him out with the rifle.

  “Get the baby Carla, we have to go.”

  “Go where?”

  “These men are taking the house, and we are going to let them have it, we have no choice, now get the baby, diapers, and blankets.”

  He turned to the men standing behind him with rifles trained on him, “We need to get things for the baby, and packs for ourselves. We won’t give you any trouble.”

  “To hell with that, just get out!” One of the men said.

  “Who’s running this show Carl? Sure as hell not you! Get what you need, but get it done quick!” The one who seemed to be the leader said.

  “My shotgun? It’s a relic my father left me, and it only has a few old shells for it. We are going to need a way to get food of some kind.”

  “Sure. Why not? I hold the shells until you go. Tell your woman to hurry it up mister, we ain’t got all day!”

  “Ok, I’ll help her.”

  “Jack, follow him around while he gathers some stuff, if he makes a wrong move…shoot him dead.”

  The man followed him as he gathered their hiking packs he kept in the laundry room to keep them dry. He walked to the closet where the shotgun was kept, “The shotgun is in here. The shells are on the shelf overhead.”

  “I’ll get it, and see if it’s loaded, you stand over there where I can see you.”

  He stood aside while the man checked the breech of the gun, “I’ll keep the gun until you leave mister. Then he whispered, “I hope you and you’re wife, and baby make it ok. I’m sorry it had to be this way.”

  “Being sorry doesn’t make it right, but if it hadn’t been you, it would have been someone else, and someone stronger will take it from you.”

  The man looked at him something with something like fear and regret in his eyes.

  “Quit yakking with that guy, and get the hell out here!” Came the strident voice of the leader.

  “Lets go mister.”

  Carla was standing in the kitchen with the baby in her arms. Sean looked around the room then, “Lets go Carla.” They walked out the door. The man handed him the shotgun with the half dozen shells that Sean doubted would fire after twenty five years of sitting in a closet. He adjusted the back pack on Carla’s shoulders as well as his own. He took the baby from her, and they walked down the graveled drive toward the road. Before they got a half mile down the road they met another man, and woman carrying back packs. Before the couple got to them, he loaded the shotgun.

  “Hello.” The man said amiably as he walked up. Neither of them seemed a threat to Sean. The man looked to be about fifty, and the woman was a droopy looking woman about the same age.

  “Where are you folks heading?” Sean asked.

  “Away, we don’t know where. Where are you heading?”

  “The same, some armed men took our house a little way back up the road.”

  “Same here.”

  “Whats happening with people? One of them didn’t seem like he liked what he was doing in taking our house.”

  “People are leaving Bangor by the droves, there’s no electric, water or food, we’ve seen three corpses the last two days just lying in the road. They were shot dead. Half of Bangor is on fire, and the rest is a war zone. We were going to leave the road up ahead; the roads are too dangerous to walk on.”


  “It might be a good idea to leave it before you get to my house. There are five men with automatic rifles up there.”

  “Thanks for the warning mister; we’ll leave the road now then. Would you want to walk with us?”

  “No…not now, I need to be by myself to be able to get my bearings, and take this all in. I need to think.”

  “Ok, if we run across you later, the offer still stands.” The couple walked on. Sean stood in the road to watch them go, until they crossed over and disappeared in the woods. Sean stood, and surveyed the wooded country around.

  “We need a topographical map, I think we can get one down at the fire station at millers crossing. Its only about a mile, then we’re going to get off the road too.”

  “Can we live in the woods Sean?” Carla asked. She had tears in her eyes, and Sean hoped his face didn’t look as pitiful as hers did.

  “We are going to have too for tonight, it isn’t cold, and I need time to think, to get it together, the baby depends on us both, and we’re facing something we have never faced before. Is your pack too heavy to carry?”

  “I don’t think so as long as I don’t have to carry it too far.”

  “The pack will be lightened as we go.”

  He could see that she was struggling under the pack a little, and the straps of his pack were already cutting into his shoulders, plus he had the baby. How does a man live off the land? His thoughts raced from one problem to the other. I’ve got to get somewhere where I can keep them safe, and think!

  He looked at the fields along the road, and then to the thick woods on the other side of the fields. The day wasn’t hot, not like summer would be. He had a little survival training in the army. A bee flew by his nose, and he couldn’t ward it off with his hands snug under the baby, but the bee found other places to go besides the sweat on his face. He was thanking God the bee hadn’t landed on his nose, and he cackled at the idea in his head.

  The volunteer fire station came into view around the next corner just about time he felt like the pack was sawing its way into his shoulders. His shoulders already felt raw. What the heck am I going to be like if I have to walk with this a whole day? He wasn’t much of a cusser, but he cursed the men who had taken his home. They walked up to the fire station, and he handed the baby to Carla, and dumped his pack near the door. He pushed on the door, and it opened, “Hello?” The only sound that he heard was the echo in the large empty building. The fire trucks were gone. He walked to the office, and the door was standing open. He peaked around the door frame, and saw the blood on the walls. He jerked back, and then looked again. The fire chief was in his chair, and he had been shot. The flies buzzed slowly around his head as if they were droopy from the feed they had gotten. He rushed over, and heaved in the middle of the floor. He saw his wife coming through the door.

  “Don’t come in here Carla, you don’t need to see this.”

  “What is it Sean?”

  “Just trust me now Carla. Keep a watch at the door while I try to find a map.” She turned to stand in the door. She was breast feeding the baby, and Sean worried that such sights may dry her up. He had no experience with such things. He turned back to the office, and tried not to look as he rummaged in the closet where the maps were kept. He found three topo’s of the county, and took those out to stuff into his pack.

  “Ok, let’s head to those wood across the field there. We are going to camp there tonight.”

  They waded the knee high grass across the field and entered the thick trees, he warded the limbs away from the baby, and hoped insects would not fall into the blanket. Bobby was a good baby, and didn’t cry until he got good and hungry, and then he would bawl to the top of his lungs. He found a small clearing in the forest, and worked the pack off his shoulders while still holding the baby. Carla sighed as she laid her heavy pack on the ground. He handed her the baby, and while she nursed him, he worked out the poles on the small tent, and in about fifteen minutes had it up. The tent had a water proof floor, and was water proofed four inches up the sides. He unrolled the sleeping bags inside, and then stood up, and flexed his back.

  “Home sweet home honey, if you want to lie down in the tent; I’ll fix us something to eat.”

  “I want to sit out here with you Sean.”

  He went about finding dead wood to burn. He didn’t stop until he had a pile of it, and then he built up a small fire. He then opened a can of beans, and a can of peaches. “At least we have a can opener. Its pretty hard to think when you got guns pointed at you.”

  This is no way to run a railroad. He threw another stick on the fire, and watched as it gobbled at the stick. That’s the way the world is going to be from now on, gobbling at our flesh, gobbling at Carla, and the baby, and I’ve got to get my crap together or they are going to die quick. It didn’t take long for the beans to heat, and he handed the can to Carla along with their one spoon. They had forgotten to bring eating utensils. He had found that one in the fire station.

  “You eat it,” Carla said.

  “Eat half Carla, and then I’ll eat; same with the peaches. You’ve got to do everything I say from now on, and do it quickly, somebody has got to lead, and somebody has got to follow.”

  “Why has God allowed us this?” She asked around a mouth full of beans.

  “That’s the first thing we have to do honey, is quit asking questions we can not possibly answer. We have to deal with what is, and not what we think it should have been. The world has taken a huge dump on us, and we have to survive for the baby’s sake. We’ve got to get tough, and do it now, hear me?”

  “I hear you…for Bobby. If not for us, for the baby.” She had fed him, and he had went back to sleep. Bobby was like a puppy, the two things he did best was eat, sleep, and push the rich mothers milk out the other end.

  “Do you think there’s something wrong with him Sean? He doesn’t raise a fuss like other baby’s.

  “Nah, he is just a contented baby, there is plenty of intelligence in his eyes.”

  “That’s true. What do you think is happening in Bangor?”

  “I think the groceries have run out, and people are leaving the towns looking for something to eat, and the problem is, so many of them won’t care who they have to hurt to get it. What I didn’t want you to see back at the fire station was Mike Simpson. He had been shot, and killed right at his desk.”

  “Oh Sean, he was such a nice man.”

  “Well…its come the time when nice won’t cut it; so we have to do what we have to do to survive, if survival is even possible.”

  “I did see a couple cutting into the woods the other side of the fire station; I had forgotten to tell you.”

  “Yeah, in the days ahead we are just as likely to come upon people in the woods as on the road. Now that I have had a little time to think, I think we should travel on the road in the day, and camp hidden the best we can at night.”

  “Where are we going Sean?”

  “I’m thinking we will south toward Florida. The winters are too long and hard on the east coast. I would hope we can be in Florida by the fall.”

  The baby awoke, and began to squirm around. Carla changed his Huggy, and then began to breast feed, and he made slurping sounds as he went at her breast with a vengeance.

  “He’s sure a lively little critter when he’s eating ain’t he?” Sean looked at their baby with something like awe.

  “He’s our precious little boy.” She smiled at him.

  He scooted over by her, and snuck in a kiss. “I love you Carla.” The smell of her hair mixed with the smell of the breast milk stirred something down in his soul that wasn’t yet identified. Something wild, fierce, and protective. He had never felt that before, but it was there now, as if it had come out of the dark trees, and settled gently in his chest. He reached for the shotgun, and broke the breech, shoving in a shot shell, and the sound of the breech closing rang loud in the clearing. It was a warning for no one to approach them in the dark of night. He really didn’
t know it yet, but this was the sound of a changing man, ready to kill to protect his woman, and his off spring. Somewhere in the Rockies an Alpha wolf fought to the death for the same thing. Darkness had closed over America, and its people; the ones that survived would not think many enlightened thoughts for another one hundred years.

  The next morning he awoke with the sun dappling the orange tent with leaf shaped shadows. He looked over at Carla, and the baby sleeping peacefully, snug inside her sleeping bag. He felt rested, and much better. He glanced down at his watch, and saw that it was almost nine AM. He crawled out of the little tent, and saw that the dew was fast evaporating on the grass the first of March in the year that the world’s economy fell hard, and fast.

  He had the tent down and everything packed, they had eaten a cold bit of breakfast, and he waited as Carla nursed the baby. No hurry, he planned to travel slow; gather their food as they went, and go slow as to be watchful.

  He had changed he knew; in some unidentifiable way his world has shifted; just slightly, as if the earths gravity had shifted, and he was in no hurry to visit that part of hell he knew was coming.

  His change had come, and it did not bode well for those who might want to do him or his harm. He suddenly remembered the old Creedence Clearwater song and he hummed the tune softly, there is a house in new awleens…uhuh, that brown sound.

  “What are you so happy about?” Carla asked as she tucked her breast back into her blouse, and handed him the baby. He had made a sling of sorts to tuck the little creature in so that he would have his hands free to act if he needed too.

  “Nothing, you ready?”

  “When you are happy you always sing Creedence.”

  “That my dear, signifies I am not plagued by a thousand questions, and if you go trying to analyze it, I’ll fall right back into a most serious slump.”

  He held out his hand to lift her up, and began walking again in the direction of the road. With the baby slung in front of his chest, his left hand hung down, and his right carried the loaded shotgun, “If either of us see anyone in front of us, or anywhere near us, we get back in the trees immediately. That will let them know we don’t want company, and if anyone follows us, it’s on them what happens. You got it Carla?”

  “Yes massa.” She said mockingly, “What’s got into you?”

  He stopped and turned to look at her, “I aim to keep you both safe if I can at all, no matter what I have to do to do that.”

  He walked on, and she knew something was different about her man, and he would bide no arguments nor disobedience, not that she intended too, for her change had come too. When they came back to the road he snipped the two strands of barbed wire, and just left it hanging after they had crossed over into the road. A whole nation was on the move, and fences didn’t matter any more. Just before sunset they came to a little town by the name of Hepner. The stores were boarded up, but the grocery stores back door was wide open. He looked inside, but every shelf was bare except a can of dog food. He put the can of giblets, and gravy in his pack, and left the store. They walked on through the silent town until on the very outskirts they came to a small white house by the side of the road. The house had a screened in front porch, and he opened it and knocked on the front door.

  There was no answer, but it was no surprise as he had that feeling when you know a house is empty of life. He jimmied the lock easily, and walked into the living room. He glanced back, and Carla was on the screened in porch waiting. He was surprised as his lack of feeling of guilt as he walked toward the bedrooms, but his change had come, and it was life or death.

  He opened the door of the bedroom, and there was a bed with the corpse of an old woman in repose, her head sticking out under the blankets. He backed out of the room quickly as the smell hit him, a moldy smell of death.

  He walked back to where Carla waited, “Wait here, but don’t go in, there is a body in the bedroom. I’m going to look out back for a place to camp.”

  In back of the house there was a little mother-in-law house. He jiggled the knob, and the door opened. The little house had been kept neat with a bed in one corner. He walked back around the house to get Carla.

  “Don’t do that again.”

  “What?”

  “Leave me standing in a house with a dead person in it.”

  “Ok, I’m sorry, I didn’t think.”

  “I’ll do what you say because I know it is imperative, but you have to think.”

  “There is a little house out back we can stay the night in, come on.” He was a little irritated with her, or himself, he didn’t know just which.

  “Do we have to stay next to a dead person?”

  “It was an old woman, I’m afraid we are going to find lots of this from now on, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if she were alive.”

  “I suppose if you look at it that way, its ok then.”

  “I’m sure she is resting easy being out of this kind of misery, don’t you? I need to look through the house to see if there is anything we can use. Here take the baby, and feed him before he sets off a squall, you can set on the bed there.”

  He opened the back door of the house, and went in again, and began to search the house methodically. He opened a closet door on the back porch, and lifting back some old clothing, he found a cross bow with several hunting arrows, a box of fishing tackle, and a camouflage jacket. He tried that on and it fit a little loose, but it was useable. He searched the rest of the house all but the old ladies room, and only found a couple quart jars of canned apples. He tested the sealed tops, held the apples up to the light, and saw the color looked good. He walked back to the old ladies room. He didn’t want to, but he knew he needed to search the closet, and the drawers of the dresser, and night stand. In the night stand he found six pairs of warm socks that he thought would fit Carla. He breathed as shallow as he could as he opened the closet door to search there. His hand found a wood box on the top shelf of the closet, the box was mahogany, He lifted the little latch, and opened the box, and there was a forty five caliber automatic placed on purple lining, along with some world war two medals, probably her late husbands stuff. He took the automatic, and put the box back where he found it. He felt around, and found a box of shells for the gun. He put those in his pocket, and scooping up the two quart jars, he returned to the guest house to find Carla sprawled on the bed fast asleep, along with the baby. He gently covered her with a blanket, and then closed and locked the door. He sat down in the old easy chair, and closed his eyes with the flashlight close by his hand.

  Daylight was streaming through the window when he awoke with a start. The baby was sound asleep on the bed, and panic ran through him when he did not see his wife. He started toward the door when she came around the house with her arms full of apples, “I don’t like for you to go anywhere when I’m not aware of it.” He scolded.

  “Sorry, I went out back too pee, and saw these apples. We can use them.”

  Looking at the apples she had spread on the bed, an idea clicked in his mind. He had seen one of those carts in the shed you use to pull a kid behind a bicycle with. He walked to the shed, and brought the cart back to the room. It was super light, and if he did a bit of work to it, it would be just right to carry their packs with along with a little more food.

  “Oh that will be a relief, the pack cuts into my shoulders so bad.” Carla remarked.

  There was an air pump in a bracket along the rail of the cart, and he pumped the tires up with that, “These are regular bicycle tires on here, so they could be replaced if they go flat or wear out, but this orange color will stick out like a sore thumb.”

  “If we had some green, black, and brown spray paint, we could paint it camo couldn’t we? Like the jacket you found?”

  “I like the way you think lady, and I saw several cans of spray paint in the laundry room. I’ll go get it.”

  In a few minutes he was back with some spray paint cans of different colors, and pulling the cart through the door to the little
porch, he began to paint the cart, “Leave the baby on the bed, and go around to the front, and keep watch while I work on this, and if you see anyone, don’t yell out. Come back and tell me.”

  “Ok.”

  He began to spray the cart with black, green, and brown until he had what he thought was a fair camouflage job. Then he put their packs on the cart. It pulled easily, and he called his wife. When she came back around he indicated the cart, “Pretty snazzy huh?”

  “You’re a regular Rembrandt.” She grinned.

  “We are better armed now too”, he showed her the .45 pistol. “I didn’t find any newer shot shells, but we will eventually.”

  “My brother had one of those pump things that would hold several shells. He showed me once; wouldn’t that be better than a single shot?”

  “That’s why I love you Carla, you got common sense, the single shot will do until we find one somewhere. Let’s get on the road.”

  They traveled the day out. The black top stretched out before them over the country side, up hill, and down, around bends, and gradual curves, and they camped the night by a creek that ran under the road. They glimpsed a few people that day, but the people got off the road when they saw them. They pulled the cart off the road, and hid it in some bushes. They went further back into the trees until they thought it might be safe to sleep, so they set up the tent there by the creek. As the sun set, Carla fed the baby, and then laid him inside the tent pulling the screen closed so that no bugs or mosquitoes could get to him. They ate quietly, and he noticed Carla didn’t eat much.

  “Do you have enough milk for the baby do you think? You need to eat more.”

  “So you’re the expert on women’s milk now?” She gave him a wry grin.

  “No, I’m just trying to use a little common sense.”

  “I’ll be ok, I’ll eat one of the apples before bed. It seems like my bodies changing a little, and I don’t need as much food.”

  “Those people we saw today; don’t you think we ought to try to talk to some of them? They didn’t appear to be dangerous. I think we need to get some news about what is happening.” She said.

  “Maybe…people are not hungry enough yet to be too dangerous. Some of them would be dangerous even on a good day in Bangor. The problem is which ones?”

  “I suppose we would just have to take that chance, we can use our instinct, a woman’s instinct is pretty accurate.”

  “Well, I’m just not ready to trust our lives to your instinct.”

  “You have the forty five if it fails.”

  “I’ve never shot anyone. What if I can’t pull the trigger when it comes time?”

  “You’ll do what’s necessary when it comes time.”

  He pulled her over to him and kissed her, “I love you very much you know.”

  “I know, but you better not stop telling me.”

  The next day about noon they came to a sign that said ‘Welcome to New Hampshire’. An hour later they saw a group of three pulling a child’s Red Racer wagon toward them. They kept coming, and did not get off the road. When they got closer Sean could see it was a man, a woman, and a girl of about ten. He decided he would try to talk to them. When they got about twenty feet from them the man stopped.

  “Hello.” He called.

  “Hello yourself.” Sean answered.

  “We don’t want any trouble.” The man said.

  “Neither do we. Could we talk a spell?”

  “That would be nice, we haven’t talked to anyone in a couple of days.” The man walked forward until he was about five feet away, and then stopped again. Sean saw a pistol in a holster. The man was short, and wore a beard that was turning gray, the woman was also short and had a homely face; the girl was a chip off the old block as they say.

  The man saw him eyeing the gun, “That’s for bad people or bad animals.” I see you are pretty well armed too.”

  “Same here; for bad people. Where have you come from?”

  “We came from Augusta; we have family in Bangor.”

  “It might not be a good idea to go to Bangor; I had a place outside of Bangor, and was forced off it by armed men. A man I knew was shot, and killed at the fire station near there. He was a good man too.”

  “The cart you have is a good idea; I’ll look for one along the way.”

  “Yes, it would be better than the wagon and quieter too. Its not safe making a lot of noise nowadays.” He reached back into the cart, and got three of the apples, and handed one to each of them.

  “Thank you mister.”

  The man snatched the pistol out of his holster. “Now I’ll take the cart.”

  Sean looked toward the trees, and yelled “Oh my God!”

  The man fell for the ruse, and Sean shot him through the chest with the forty five, the mans gun went off, and a bullet zinged off the asphalt. A piece of the lead nicked Sean’s ear. The woman squalled and knelt beside her husband, and the girl came for him. He whacked her alongside the head, and she dropped to the pavement. The adrenaline was screaming through his veins as he had the gun pointed at the woman’s head.

  “Oh Lordy, Lordy, what are we gonna do now?” She wailed.

  “He should have thought of that!” Sean said savagely, “I ought to shoot the both of you!”

  “Don’t Sean, please don’t!”

  The sound of Carla’s voice cut into his beleaguered brain, and he lowered the gun. He reached down, and picked up the pistol. “Lets go Carla, you go in front of me, and if they try anything, they’re dead meat, I swear!”

  Carla pulled the cart around the people and the dieing man on the ground, and Sean backed down the road after them. Carla was running pulling the cart behind her, and he kept his hand on the baby as he ran to catch up. He glanced behind him, but the people made no motion to follow as they knelt beside the man sprawled in the road.

  By this time Sean was shaking like a leaf in the wind, the adrenaline beginning to subside. “Let’s get off the road Carla! There’s a side road just up ahead.”

  When she came to the side road that ran up to a house on the right, she pulled the cart into it; went a few feet, and stopped. They both stood there trying to catch their breath.

  “So…So much for instinct.” Sean said as he looked at her, “Are you hurt?”

  “No, but I just pissed my pants!”

  Sean looked at her and began laughing. He laughed so hard he doubled over, and Carla just stared at him.

  “I’m sorry honey, I know that’s not funny. I must be in some kind of shock.” He looked at her, and all of a sudden, he couldn’t find anything funny about it. “I think I saw a bridge abutment just down the road, there’s probably water there, and we can get you cleaned up.” The baby was crying to the top of his lungs.

  “Give me the baby Sean.”

  He gently took the baby out of the sling, and handed him to her. “”There now little one, it’s alright.” She cooed. Before they got to the bridge, the baby had stopped crying, and she was feeding him. He helped her down the embankment to the small stream, leaving the cart on the road. As she stripped off her clothes and washed up he climbed the steep embankment again, and brought her pack. Soon she was dressed again, and she washed her blue jeans out in the stream, and then climbed the embankment lugging her pack, to hang them on the rail of the cart to dry.

  He followed with the baby back in his sling; the baby reached up with his little hands, and cooed at Sean, “You sure are a tough little booger ain’t you?” Sean looked at him and grinned.

  They had walked six more days before they found a body in the ditch by the side of the road, then a day later they found another one. Sean stood, and stared at the body. I say inspector Bernard, who did this dastardly deed? Well…it is simple dear Watkins. The public shot this man. They shot him for his stuff.

  Oh how I admire you inspector Bernard! As you should Watkins…as you should my boy.

  “Why are you staring at him Sean?”

  He jerked around, “Stupid I gue
ss. People are beginning to kill others on a whole sale basis. I knew it was going to get bad, but I didn’t think it would get this bad this quick.”

  Sean learned as they journeyed slowly south. He learned to be watchful, to go slow and careful. His change had come, and the world was fitting him to survive, and to do what was necessary to protect his own. There were others who couldn’t learn, who bucked up against survival, who thought a living was due them, and they died by the thousands. Then there were the ones like the old woman in the bed. They were too old, or sick, or lame to go out, and find food. Those ones died quickly.

  They were at the lower end of Vermont when they came to a bridge that had a large creek flowing underneath it. It was an idyllically beautiful place with large flat rocks below the bridge, and boulders that invited a person to sit under the blue sky and fish in the creek. A place where God made red worms in old manure to fish with, and cane poles, and perhaps a pipe full of Borkum Riff or mixture no. 79 to waft sweetly over the water.

  They came to a full stop in awe of this place, as if the asphalt road was a foreign object under their feet. A crow called across the way at a small farm house on the other side of the creek. Sean glanced down at the rocks below to see a woman, and a girl of about twelve lying on the rocks; their faces to the sky. The sun shown on their faces, and made them look a marble statues that had been hewn out of the rocks.

  “Are they dead?” Carla whispered. About that time Bobby came awake, and decided he would bide no time out before his lunch was served. He began caterwauling to prove it. The crying of the baby brought the two on the rocks to life, and they stared up at them with their hands shading their eyes.

  “Hello.” Sean called to them.

  Neither one of them answered, but kept staring up at them as if they were an enemy that had the higher ground.

  “We mean no harm.” He said.

  “The last group said the same thing, but they killed my husband, and left us with no food.” The woman said, and he could feel the fear in her voice.

  “When was this?”

  “Just two days back, up the same road you came down.”

  See Watkins, we are hot on the trail of the killers, and when we find them I will put you in for a pay raise at the sergeants desk.

  “We can’t leave them Sean.” Carla’s voice was very low, and she sounded sure of what she was saying. It was one of those statements that said she would hear no arguments from him.

  “It could be a ruse to ambush us.”

  “We’ll just have to take that chance.” She said. He looked at her, and knew that the argument was over. He loosened the pistol in his back pocket, and resigned himself for whatever occasion arose.

  “We have a little food to share for lunch if you like, you could come up here, or we could come down there.”

  “You can come down here, there is a trail behind you, if you decide to kill us; it is as good a place as any to meet our maker.”

  “I’m not looking for that to happen, where did you say the trail down was?”

  “It is hidden behind those bushes; go back about twenty feet, and look close.”

  They turned back, and sure enough there was a narrow, well worn trail that led down the hill. So much for you inspector Bernard, you didn’t see it, and they did. Sean shoved the cart in some bushes, and then pulled the foliage over it so it couldn’t be seen except to the most astute of woodsman, and then led the way down the steep trail. The trail led suddenly out of the trees, and between two huge boulders the size of Volkswagen buses, and then opened onto the flat rock bed of the creek. The woman was standing there waiting, the girls arm was entwined with hers as though they we entering a late summer dance. The woman was graying, and had sharp features, and the girl was pretty, but looked too skinny.

  He reached out to shake the woman’s hand. Her hand didn’t have much grip. He reached for the girl’s hand, but she jerked away.

  “One of the men raped her after they killed my husband, and then took off with our gear. She hasn’t said anything since. If I could I would kill them all.”

  “I’m so sorry, my name is Sean Bernard, and this is my wife Carla. Our baby’s name is Bobby.”

  She looked inside the sling on his chest, “He looks like a Bobby.” She said, and smiled.

  “I’m Martha Grayson, and this is my daughter Tammy.”

  Carla hugged the woman, and Sean saw tears rise to the surface of the woman’s eyes. A woman seems to know what another woman needs, but us men sure as hell don’t. He glanced warily at the trees on both sides of the creek, but saw no one. He was sure not going to let down his guard just because a woman shed a tear or two. I see blue blood in her, the way she carries herself, I can just see her in her fancy house, holding fourth at a bridge party. Wonder what set them afoot? Probably the same as us. Men who take by force don’t care about class. One thing about it, some blue bloods are tougher than leather, and she looks tough.

  While Sean opened some cans of food the two women chatted, but his mind was not on the conversation, it was on who might be coming down that road.

  “We ought to eat quickly, and get somewhere where we are not so exposed.”

  As the little group traveled down the coast it became more and more difficult to find food. Every house had been ransacked for anything that was of use. By the end of July they came to Onslow bay in North Carolina. They staid for a week in an older house on a finger of water that ran inland. After that week Sean was ready to move on.

  “I’m going to stay here Sean, Tammy’s getting better, and I’m tired of walking.”

  “Are you sure? Its not safe to stay here for long.”

  “Yes, I’m sure, and I want to thank you for taking us in.”

  “No problem.”

  There were hugs and tears from the women, and the girl hugged Sean tightly. He returned the hug, and while he had become attached to them, he knew they probably wouldn’t live the winter out by themselves living in that house. The whole country was on the move, and soon the wrong people would come across this place.

  Carla stopped, and looked back at the house wistfully, “Are you sure we have to go Sean?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.”

  She sighed, and started the cart rolling. Sean had put on another set of wheels and tires he had been fortunate enough to find. The axles were standard front bicycle axles. The axles were getting worn too, but he had slopped on some heavy grease he had found in someone’s garage. He had no way to weld, and he knew that soon he would have to jury rig axles.

  By the end of August they were fifteen miles outside of Jacksonville Florida. After wintering there, they worked their way inland and picked up the coast line near Panama City, and from there they spent several years along the Louisiana Coast where wild pigs and deer were in good supply. Also, there was the south’s ‘Po white trash’ that would just as soon strip you, and hang you to a convenient tree for ‘some o dat long pork’. They tried to steer clear of them, but it wasn’t always possible, in which case Sean shot first, and ask the questions later.

  They were near Lake Charles when Sean had had enough of the skeeters, ticks, and chiggers, and decided to head North West toward Denver, and in Lamar Colorado Carla got sick with a bad fever. They nursed her for three days, doing everything they could for her, but she died anyway. After he and Bobby buried her, and did their mourning, they struck out for Denver, but it wasn’t Denver that Sean had his mind set on, it was the Pacific North West, where his folks had lived a short time many years ago. It had been fifteen years since they had left their home in Bangor Maine.