Getting Home

22

“I can’t believe we’re almost back,” said Mandy. “I just can’t believe we’re here.”

Max nodded.

He agreed. It was strange to find themselves back on the hunting grounds. He almost couldn’t believe that they’d made it.

If it hadn’t been for Mandy’s unusually good sense of direction and memory for landmarks, Max didn’t think they would have gotten there. It wasn’t that he had a bad memory for those things, just that Mandy’s was superb.

“You think they missed us?” said Mandy.

“I just hope they’re still alive,” said Max.

“This was a lot easier driving out of than walking into,” said Mandy as they set off down the access road that they’d driven the pickup down not so long ago.

“I’m just happy we’re still walking.”

“Always the optimist.”

Max found himself smiling. A brief smile, but a smile nevertheless.

“Did I just see you smile?” said Mandy. “You got my joke?”

“Maybe I’m happy to be back.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say you were happy.”

“There hasn’t been much to be happy about.”

“Except for being able to walk. And not lying injured or dead in a ditch somewhere.”

“Sometimes I wonder how we even did it.”

“That makes two of us.”

It was a couple more hours of walking back to the camp.

“Well,” said Mandy, pausing. The van and the tent were in view. “Here we are.”

“Come on,” said Max, leading the way.

“I was waiting for you to say that we need to get to work,” said Mandy.

Max gave a tired laugh. “I think we both need a rest. We’ll start work tomorrow.”

It was early in the morning. Everyone would most likely be asleep, except for whoever was on guard duty.

But he didn’t see anyone. Maybe they were hiding. Maybe they’d found a new spot to watch from.

“Stop!” shouted someone, frantically. “Don’t take another step!”

Max and Mandy froze.

“James?” called out Mandy. “Is that you? It’s us.”

Sure enough, it was James. He emerged from behind a tree on the other side of camp. He carried a rifle, and looked thinner than when they’d left.

Mandy started to walk forward.

“Stop!” called out James again. “I’m serious!”

Mandy froze.

“I thought you’d be happy to see us!”

“There’s a trap,” called out James, walking towards them.

Max was already looking around. His eyes settled on the ground, where it looked like dead leaves had been rearranged to cover up something.

“A ditch?” said Max.

“Yeah,” said James.

“Good work,” said Max.

“Well, it’s not that deep. It’s harder to dig than we thought.”

“I thought you were bringing someone back with you,” said James.

“It didn’t work out,” said Max.

The reunion didn’t quite have the same tone that reunions did before the EMP, like when families would meet each other at the airport arrival gates.

Things remained subdued even as everyone woke up and came sleepily out of the van and the tent.

They were happy to see Max and Mandy, of course, but Max soon learned just how rough a time they’d had of it while they were gone.

There’d been a huge band of chaotic people, acting as a mob, that had attacked them not long ago. And then another smaller one just a couple days ago.

For some reason, the second mob had been scared off. But they were still out there, somewhere nearby in the woods.

Georgia was doing better, but she’d recently pushed herself too hard. She looked OK now to Max, but he could still see that something was hurting her. He recognized the look in her face when the injury was acting up. He knew it well, since his leg still bothered him.

They’d gone hungry. And only yesterday they’d made the dangerous trip past the gathering mob to the deer that Georgia had seen shot just a couple days ago. They’d managed to drag it back to camp.

“You wouldn’t still have some of that deer lying around, would you, by any chance?” said Mandy, trying to make a joke out of it.

“Sure,” said John. “You two must be starving.”

Half an hour later, they were all sitting around the smoldering campfire eating venison and drinking coffee with sugar.

Max and Mandy handed out a couple of the bags of chips that they still had left. They’d already drank all the soda, but some of the flavors weren’t to their likings, despite their hunger.

But John and James, it turned out, loved jalapeño flavored chips, no matter how spicy they were.

“So tell me more about this mob,” said Max. “You’ve already been attacked? Tell me exactly what happened.”

“We survived,” said Georgia.

“But it’s not the end,” said Cynthia. “Don’t worry, they’re still out there.”

“How many?”

“A couple dozen. More than before.”

“But they’re not moving,” said Mandy. “Maybe they’re just going to stay in one place. Why do you think they’ll attack?”

“Because they’re probing,” said John. “Small groups of a couple of them are coming our way. We do what we can, but some of them inevitably escape. And presumably they report back.”

“I thought you said they were acting more like animals than people?” said Mandy.

“In a sense, yes.”

“You’re talking about this mob as if it’s an entirely different organism.”

“Humanity at its worst,” muttered Max.

“Hey, Max, can I talk to you for a second?” said John, standing up and nodding over to an area away from the campfire.

Max nodded and joined his brother.

When they were out of earshot from the campfire, Max said, “what’s up?”

“I’m worried,” said John. “You came back at the best time for us, but the worst time for you and Mandy.”

“It sounds like you don’t think we’re going to make it through this.”

“I don’t want to worry everyone else. It’s just going to bring morale down and decrease their ability to fight.”

“They’re adults,” said Max. “They can take the news. I don’t think it’s a good idea to mislead anyone.”

“They’re not all adults,” said John. “Two of them are kids.”

Max shrugged. “They fight like adults. They have to survive just like everyone else.”

“It’s still different.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree.”

“So I’m thinking that…”

“You think we should run, right?” said Max, eyeing his brother’s shifting eyes. Their eyes were what made them look the most similar. Max hadn’t seen himself in a mirror in months, but he saw a part of himself in his brother’s eyes.

John nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “I know it’s bad out there, but… I just don’t see how we’re going to get through this. Sooner or later we’re going to have dozens of armed people invading again. And we’re tired. We’re not as well-fed or rested as we should be.”

“We have the venison.”

“But they could starve us out essentially. With the mob so close, it’s going to be harder and harder to go out hunting. What if it takes weeks for them to attack? We’ll just get weaker and weaker.”

Max said nothing. He was deep in thought.

“Georgia’s stronger than before, but she’s not her old self. And no offense, but you and Mandy aren’t looking so great yourselves.”

“We’re fine,” said Max.

“So what do you think? You were out there. Down south. You think we should move on?”

“In what?” said Max. “The van?”

John nodded.

“We can’t do it,” said Max. “Even if we got the van running, our odds are going to be worse out there. Things haven’t settled down. I don’t know if they’re getting worse or staying the same. It doesn’t really matter. But we need to be out of whatever’s going on.”

“I thought everyone was dying off. The population numbers are going down.”

Max nodded. “Yeah, but there’s evidence of something else going on… people getting more organized.”

“Like the militia, or what?”

“Something like that,” said Max. He told John about a couple of the encounters he and Mandy had while out on the road. He told him about the people who’d been drugged up in the highway rest stop. He told him about the cowboy who hadn’t seemed scared whatsoever.

“I don’t see how that means anything,” said John. “Those are just minor encounters. It’s not like an army or anything.”

“You’re not looking at it the right way. Those people being kept there,” said Max. “It points to a group with a high level of organization. It points to a group that has the basics already covered, to the point where they can expend the energy and manpower going off to do whatever the hell it was they were doing.”

“What in the world are you two chatting about?” called out Cynthia.

They both turned to look. Cynthia was striding over to them.

“You’re probably sharing secret venison recipes, I bet.”

John gave a little laugh.

Max remained stone-faced.

“My brother thinks we should get the hell out of here,” said Max.

Cynthia’s face fell.

“I thought you said we could make it,” she said, glaring at John. “What? You keep your real thoughts to yourself and your brother? You don’t want to tell the rest of us?”

“He thinks he’s protecting you.”

“Protecting us from what? How many times have our lives already been on the line?”

“I was just trying to…” said John.

But Cynthia didn’t let him continue. “I can’t believe it,” she said, cutting him off.

“Don’t take it the wrong way.”

“I’ll take it anyway I want to.”

A gunshot rang out.

The three of them jumped into action.

Max reached for his Glock in its holster. He had it out in a flash. His rifle was back by the campfire.

“Everyone into position,” shouted Georgia.

“Anyone hit?” shouted Cynthia.

John and Cynthia threw themselves behind nearby trees to give themselves places to shoot from, places where they’d have more shelter.

Those around the campfire were scattering. Max’s eyes found Mandy. She was rushing off.

Max didn’t jump for cover. Instead, he threw himself to the ground.

His eyes were scanning, looking for where the shot had come from.

It didn’t seem like anyone had been hit.