Surviving Chaos

3

“Do you see that?”

“Sure as hell I do,” said Dale.

“What?” said Cynthia.

The three of them were lying on their stomachs in the dead leaves of autumn. Kiki lay obediently near them, not making a sound.

John passed his pair of binoculars to Cynthia, removing the cord from around his neck.

“He’s armed,” said Cynthia, after a moment of holding the binoculars to her face.

“What do we do?” said John, looking to Dale.

Dale put his own binoculars down, folded them, and stuffed them into his front shirt pocket. They were a very small pair, and very high-quality.

“Probably send up two of us to go talk to him, and keep someone back here with the rifle trained on him.”

“Good plan. You’re the one with the rifle. Sounds like you should stay.”

“You’re the best shot. You should stay back.”

“If you leave me behind, I’ll probably accidentally shoot one of you,” muttered Cynthia.

She was pretty good with a handgun now, but she and John both knew they had work to do when it came to their marksmanship.

“I’ll stay then,” said Dale. “Be careful. You’re staying with me, Kiki.”

John nodded as he got up. He gave Cynthia a hand. She brushed some of the leaves and dirt off her clothes, but John didn’t bother. He’d joked before that some of the differences between men and women hadn’t changed even after the EMP. But of course the reality of it was that everyone had had to forgo the niceties that an intact civilization had provided, like clean clothes and showers.

Despite her efforts, Cynthia’s clothes, like his own, were filthy. But at least they were mostly intact, torn only partially around the ankles, where they’d caught on some thorns.

“Come on,” said John, gesturing with his chin towards the man.

They moved slowly, John going first. He kept his gun in its holster, but carried his rifle in both hands. They had about ten feet to go before they’d be visible to the guy.

John could hear Cynthia breathing heavily behind him. His own heart was already racing. He knew the feeling well. Every new encounter with a person had the potential to bring a whole host of problems and unforeseen possibilities.

The best thing to do, probably, was to appear like they weren’t a threat. But that would only work if the man they were approaching was an honest guy only looking to defend himself.

They’d have to rely on Dale to back them up.

Fortunately, Dale was just the sort of guy you wanted to have backing you up.

They were within sight now. John waved his arms, and called out.

“Howdy!”

The guy saw them. Froze. Hand didn’t go to his gun. That was a good sign.

John and Cynthia kept walking forward. She was walking abreast of him now.

“No sudden movements,” whispered John.

“You don’t need to tell me that. I don’t want to end this day with a bullet inside me.”

“We’ll see what we can do.”

“Hey there,” called out John, as they got closer.

The guy still wasn’t reaching for his gun. But he didn’t speak either. He just glared at them.

Finally, when they were about ten paces away from him, he spoke. “What can I do for you?”

It wasn’t much of a greeting. More practical than friendly. Which was fine. They weren’t going to judge the guy on how polite he might have been considered in a pre-EMP world.

“We’re looking for a compound,” said John. “A self-sufficient community. Not sure if it has a name or not. But we’ve been told it’s around here.”

The man was silent for a while. John took the time to study his face. He had an honest look about him. He wore unpretentious, but practical clothing. His clothes were well-worn, but they weren’t dirty. They stood in stark contrast to John and Cynthia’s own dirt-stained pants and shirts. He had a beard, but it was neatly trimmed. His hair, too, wasn’t overgrown, the way his own was.

“Why are you looking for it?”

That was good. It was something more than “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m looking for my brother. I heard on… a radio… that he was staying at this community.” John didn’t want to get into the details of the radio, and certainly didn’t want to mention that Dale had brought it along. It was one of his most valuable possessions in the post-EMP world, and he’d said there was no way he was leaving it behind.

“Your brother, eh?”

“Yup. My brother Max.”

“Max?”

John nodded.

A dark cloud appeared over the man’s face, and he made no effort to hide his emotions.

“I don’t know any Max.”

But that didn’t seem like the truth. There was something in the way he said it that made John think otherwise. And he wasn’t going to let it go. It was his brother, after all.

“Come on, just help me out here.”

“John, he says he doesn’t know anything,” said Cynthia.

“But I know he does. I can see it in his face.”

“OK,” said the guy. “I know who you’re talking about, but he’s not here anymore.”

“What do you mean? Where’d he go?”

The man shrugged. “Hard to say.”

“How long was he here?”

“I think you’d better be heading on your way.”

“Come on. You seem like an honest guy. I’m looking for my brother here. This isn’t some conspiracy or anything. He’s my family, and I’ve got to find him.”

John had a good read on the guy, and he knew the guy was struggling—some internal conflict. It seemed like the guy wanted to help John, but felt like he had some other obligation he needed to uphold.

“It’d really help me out if I could find any information about where he was headed. If you don’t know, maybe we could visit your community and ask around?”

The man shook his head. “That’s not a good idea. Trust me on this one.”

Something had happened. Something wasn’t right.

“Well, what can you tell me then?”

“OK,” said the guy, stepping closer to John and Cynthia. His hand didn’t move towards his holster. “Trust me when I say you don’t want to visit the compound. Things are different now than they were before. We were supposed to be a democracy. Now we’re under martial law. It’s not a fun place.”

“Why don’t you leave then?” said Cynthia.

It was a good question. Now that he’d stepped closer, John could see the obvious pain on the man’s face. Not physical pain. Something else. Something stronger.

“I can’t. I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

John nodded. “What can you tell me about Max? What happened? Did he have something to do with this… new situation?”

“I shouldn’t tell you much, but yeah. One of our leaders—I won’t say her name—convinced everyone that we needed more women in the group. You know, to procreate. I was one of the few who voted against detaining them all. It was just me and a couple others. Everyone else was duped.”

“Detaining?” said Cynthia. “What do you mean?”

“You mean like keeping them prisoners?”

“Exactly. Prisoners for life. Not a good situation.”

“That’s disgusting,” said Cynthia.

The man nodded. “I’m with you. And Max was too. The short version of the story is that he and the others escaped. They lost one of their own, and we lost six men. The compound hasn’t been the same since. And since I voted against the movement, I’ve been punished with the worst duties anyone could think of.”

This was a lot to take in for John.

“Who were the others Max was with?”

The guy shrugged. “No idea. Three women. One of them was just a teenager, though.”

“Who died?”

“Big fellow. Really overweight. Always seemed out of it. Don’t know his name. I didn’t speak to any of them personally.”

“Chad,” muttered John. It must have been Chad.

“And where were they headed? Before they escaped, I mean.”

“I sat near them in the mess hall, and some of them were talking about Kentucky. Some land out there or something. They were talking like they didn’t want anyone to hear.”

The puzzle was just getting stranger. Kentucky? What did Max want to go to Kentucky for? John knew they didn’t have any familial connection to Kentucky, and he didn’t think Max had ever been there before. Maybe someone in his group had family out there.

“Listen,” said the guy, glancing over his shoulder. “If I were you two, I’d get the hell out of here. They’re still looking for women.” He glanced meaningfully at Cynthia.

“Got it,” said John, turning around. “Thanks, by the way.”

The guy nodded, turned, and started walking in the opposite direction.

John and Cynthia walked quickly back towards Dale and Kiki.

“You don’t think he’ll tell anyone we’re here, do you?” whispered Cynthia.

“Let’s hope not. They sound like a dangerous bunch.”

“What’s the word?” said Dale.

They told him the story.

“Kentucky, eh?”

“That’s what he said.”

“What do we do now?” said Cynthia.

“I don’t know,” said John. “Kentucky’s a way’s away.”

“That’s for damn sure,” said Dale. “And who knows what lies in between here and there.”

“Well,” said John, glancing at Cynthia. “I think the thing to do is to head out there. There’s a chance it’d be better. What do you say, Cynthia?”

Cynthia shrugged. “I say we go for it. If we don’t make it, at least we’ll get a nice walk in.”

Dale laughed, but John remained serious, his lips tightened in a grim expression.

“What are you going to do, Dale, if we continue west?”

Dale shrugged. “Head back, I guess. I don’t see myself heading all the way out to Kentucky, even if you two are good company.”

Cynthia chuckled.

“You’ve come far enough already with us,” said John. “And I appreciate it.”

“Me too,” said Cynthia.

“It was nothing,” said Dale, flashing a smile. “Gave Kiki some exercise. She was putting on a little extra weight, so she needed it.”

“You’ve done so much for us. You introduced us to your friend. Without him, we wouldn’t have been able to find this community.”

“Didn’t do you much good, though, unfortunately.”

“Well, at least we know where Max is headed.”

“Hopefully,” said Cynthia.

“What do you mean?”

“We don’t know if he’s telling the truth.”

“He seemed like an honest guy.”

“You can never know. Remember Drew?”

“Yeah, but I had a bad feeling about him.”

Cynthia shrugged.

“So how can we repay you, Dale?”

Dale laughed. “Keep your hats on.” John didn’t know that expression, but he got the gist. “No need to thank me. You know me better than that. Like I said, it gave me a chance to get out a little. Gave Kiki some exercise.”

That was an understatement if John had ever heard one. They’d been walking for a solid week, camping during the night in the cold darkness. But Dale was a strange guy. Good and honest. But strange.

“I’ll camp with you tonight,” said Dale. “Then I’ll head back my way. I doubt you want to get moving yet. It’ll be dark in a few hours.”

“Sounds good, but let’s get away from this area. If we saw one guy, we might see more.”

The three of them hiked through the trail-less woods for twenty minutes before they found an area that they thought would be suitable for camping.

“You think we can risk a fire?”

Dale laughed. “Not a normal fire. But I’ve got a couple tricks up my sleeve that I still haven’t shown you. Give me a hand and we’ll get a little pit dug right about here. No one will be able to see the flames.”

John and Cynthia were both exhausted from the days of walking, but they got to work with Dale, digging a pit for the fire. They used a small collapsible shovel that Dale had carried with him in his pack, as well as rocks and sticks taken from the surrounding area.

“So the idea is to keep the flames below ground?” said Cynthia.

Dale nodded.

“Won’t people still be able to see the smoke?” said John.

Dale chuckled. “That’s where the real trick comes in.” Dale explained how they were going to build a small tunnel that led into the pit. The tunnel provided additional air flow for the fire. “And this extra airflow makes the fire burn so hot that there’s hardly any smoke.”

“I wish we’d known about that,” said Cynthia.

Dale really knew what he was doing, and less than twenty minutes later, the fire was roaring in the little pit. Sure enough, there wasn’t much smoke, and the flames weren’t visible to anyone who wasn’t right next to it.

They ate a meal of dried meat and dried fruit that Dale had brought from his food stores.

Soon, the light was beginning to fade. Dale started telling some stories from his trucker days, and Cynthia laughed along with him.

John, on the other hand, became lost in his own thoughts, about where they were and what they’d have to do next. They currently were in the middle of Ryerson Station State Park, in southwestern Pennsylvania. They were a long way from the farmhouse, but an even farther distance from Kentucky.

Should they really continue to Kentucky? After all, it was a big state. Without phones, there wasn’t much chance of contacting Max. It wasn’t like they could send him a telegram. Their only hope was the radio, but as far as John knew, Max didn’t have a radio of his own. And even if he found one somewhere along the way, the chances of connecting with him were slim to none. Unless there were other communication networks of radio operators springing up across the country, John didn’t see how it could possibly work out. To make it all worse, Max had no idea John was looking for him.

But where else could they go? The cities were certainly in ruins. Maybe there was a town somewhere that hadn’t fallen to chaos, but would they be interested in accepting newcomers? Probably not. New people meant new problems.

Dale had told them more than once that they should build a little shack near his cabin. But John and Cynthia weren’t having any of that. They knew that it was too close to the area the militia was spreading to. And too close to the cities. Dale’d told them not to worry, but they knew better. Dale was his own man, though, and he could do what he thought best. That was the way John saw it, at least.

“You doing OK, John?” said Cynthia.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine,” said John, waking up out of his reverie.

It was dark now, and it was almost time to hit the sleeping bags. They got them out of their packs, as they’d done so many times before. The bags were covered in dried mud with a healthy coating of good old dirt. John’s had been torn when it’d snagged on a branch, and Cynthia’s had become threadbare in portions after many nights of not realizing she’d chosen to sleep on small rocks.

“Who’s going to keep first watch?” said John. He said it out of habit, forgetting the pattern they’d established the last week with Dale.

“Come on, John,” said Dale, laughing. “Kiki will keep better watch than any of us. I’ve got her trained.”

“I hope so,” said John, glancing over at Kiki, who turned an eye towards him. She was a good dog, but he wasn’t crazy about putting his life in the hands of a dog. But each night that they’d had this discussion, John had been too tired to protest. It was easier to give in, not to mention get a full night’s sleep.

The pit fire gave off very little light, but with his darkness-adjusted eyes, John was able to see Kiki curling up next to Dale in his sleeping bag.

Cynthia, in her own bag, squirmed over until she lay next to John. “It’s cold,” she said sleepily.

And it was cold. John tightened the drawstrings of his own bag. His body was exhausted, and he knew he’d be asleep in less than a minute. Sleeping on the cold ground instead of a bed no longer meant anything to him. He couldn’t even remember what a bed felt like.

His thoughts turned to the man they’d met earlier that day, and the compound. He’d seemed like an honest man…