Chapter 13

There is this space, sort of a meta-space, wherein you are not really asleep, you are not really awake, but you KNOW that you are not altogether asleep, and are aware of something, at the very edge of your consciousness, that does not belong. I was in that space.

The sun was shining, birds chirping, a breeze drifting across the glen within which we had camped.

I had Emily wrapped in an embrace, while Lucy ... er, uh, Lucy was NOT cuddled up against my back. My questing arm did not identify her. I rolled clear of Emily, and crawled to the head of the hootch. A glance about our site did not reveal Lucy, who, I noted, had moved her clothing-shoes included. Her shotgun was not present, although her side of our nest was still warm. I hurriedly began to dress, and woke Emily.

“Pssst! Quietly, wake up, get dressed in a hurry, and gun up! Lucy is not here, and something is up!”

Emily blinked a couple of times, processed what I had said, and promptly burst into action. I was a couple of seconds ahead of her, but we soon were shod, dressed, and slung up. We crept to the edge of the glen, and peered around.

I saw Lucy’s shoe, almost hidden by leaves, near the peak of the embankment that served as a bullet trap for the range. Nudging Emily, I pointed, and she looked, nodded, and pantomimed approaching our friend.

We crawled, as silently as we could, to positions near Lucy. Peeking over the lip of the berm, I saw what Lucy was watching.

Once I had seen enough, I backed down the reverse face of the berm, and gestured for Emily and Lucy to join me.

“What woke you?”, I asked Lucy.

“I heard them crashing through the leaves, and then I heard them talking. I dressed, grabbed my guns, and went to see what was happening, before I disturbed you guys.”

Emily beat me to the rejoinder. “Lucy! How did you know that they did not have other people, circling around our way? If you had warned us, we could have been awake, and ready if they stumbled over our camp. Asleep, we could have lost precious seconds getting organized!”

Lucy looked aghast. “I did not think of that! Ohmigod! Do you think that they do have other people ready to come up behind us?”

I contributed, “No, I do not. That group looks like a dad, and mom, and three kids. The fact that they have firearms simply means that they either already survived a hostile encounter or two, or thought ahead to the possibility. Did you notice that they have nobody looking outside of the circle of folks filling water containers? They are not brigands, they are simply travelers, although I wish that they would travel at night, when most of the boogeymen men ought to be asleep.”

“What should we do?”, asked Emily.

“Nothing”, was my response. “If they are traveling to Eureka, they are almost there. If they are going someplace else, I am not about to divert from my goal, this close to home, to escort them there. My plan, is to retreat to our hootch, maybe pack it in and start walking, or maybe hole up for another several hours, and walk in the front door tonight, as we had planned.”

Both the women were quiet. Emily whispered first. “It’s surprising, but, last week I would have been outraged that you would pass those folks by, and not even offered to lend them a hand. After the last several days, well, now I really understand why you hide in the bushes, and go out of your way to avoid people. I would have given a lot, if I could have avoided those experiences.”

The rest of us nodded our agreement. Lucy spoke up, low pitched. “Hell, we’re up now, I think we simply ought to pack up and go.”

I looked at Emily, and she nodded. I shared my opinion. “Hell, it’s maybe six, seven miles. That ought to be a couple of hour walk, with luck. Lucy, good idea, let’s go.”

We tiptoed back to our hootch, and broke things down, packing everything carefully away. We surveyed our site, policed up a few stray bits of litter, and set off south. We walked through the woodland, following trails left by the neighboring kids as they played on their ATVs, skirting the occasional house or pole barn.

The woods took us about a mile south of the club, and we came upon Germantown Road. A jog to the east of around 500 meters, and we turned south again.

There was significant gravel mining in our county, a gift of the glaciers that seemingly had petered out right around here, dropping their load of big-rocks-ground-into-very-little-rocks, which were then covered by soil. Once the vein of gravel had been worked out, the land was sold to the county, and the pits remaining made into ponds, with sand trucked in for beaches. There were no trees: kind of a consequence of digging up all the soil, piling it up at the perimeter of the land, and then scraping up all that which lay beneath. We saw nobody about, but, there was absolutely no cover, no concealing trees or bushes. We meandered past, heads on swivels, painfully aware that we were walking about in daylight.

Evident, our Bank Officer, at the “The First Bank of Good Fortune”, had decided that our credit was still good, since we encountered no excitement, no other travelers, in our exposed position. Another mile, and we had trees or bushes flanking us, and felt like we could relax just a bit.

It was peculiar, strolling through the countryside in the daylight. Occasionally, we would see folks out and working in their yards, or a couple of retro farmers, working horse teams on elderly, traction powered, and horse drawn, farm equipment. We waved, long guns slung, as we trudged along, and received waves of acknowledgment in return.

Around three miles into our day, we came to an abandoned rail line, that the county had turned into a rail-trail. Our destination lay to the east, so leftward we turned, and walked along, eyes moving, heads up, and enjoying the novelty of seeing our shadows.

As I had expected, around a mile along the trail, there was a checkpoint. We halted several hundred yards short of the barricade, and I again withdrew my HT from my pack, and hailed the operations center on the previously used frequency.

They responded after a minute or two. “Speedracer, Eureka Control. Say your traffic.”

I filled them in. “Eureka Control, Speedracer. My party of three is at your western perimeter, at the rail trail checkpoint. If you would be so kind as to let them know that we are friendlies, that would be very much appreciated. Over.”

“Very good, message will be sent in a moment. SWMBO wants us to tell you that she is ready for you and your guests, your youngest son has checked in with Wyoming Control, and all is well with him and his family. Once you are clear of the perimeter, please see us in the fire hall, to check in. Over.”

“Very good, will do. Speedracer, no further traffic.”

We’ll see you soon. Eureka Control, clear.”

I put everything away, and the three of us set out for the roadblock, long guns slung, hands visible. A couple of dozen meters from the stop, I hailed the sentries. “Ahoy, the roadblock! Three to pass!”

A voice from behind the barrels, lined up to create a winding path, replied, “Say your name, state your business.”

“Speedracer, and two companions. I have checked in by radio with your control, and I’m returning home from a couple of counties over. My wife, identified as SWMBO on the radio, is expecting us.”

There was a delay in further conversation, until the same voice directed us, “Advance, slowly, weapons holstered or slung, hands visible, one at a time. Clear?”

“Clear. Here I come.”

I walked forward as directed, wound my way around the barrels, and found a couple of the local firefighters greeting me. “Bob! Allen! How ya doin’! Mind if I invite my companions to join us?” When you have worked in the local hospital’s emergency department, well, in a small town, everybody is acquainted with you, and dispatch recognizes your voice on the phone.

Allen beckoned Emily and Lucy to join us, and introductions were made. Of course, I got to explain why I was working 60 some miles away from home, and how I had happened into the company of a couple of lovely, and heavily armed, young women. Since one of the most honored traditions of the fire service is “Story Hour”, followed closely by the party game of “Can You Top This”, well, we spent some time regaling our hosts with the highlights of our adventures. In keeping with the International Code Of Story Hour, we delivered the Obligatory Disclaimer (“This no shit!”), followed by the Required Preamble (“There I was, Fighting Disease and Saving Lives...”, although formulations for the firefighters ran more along the lines of “ ... Fighting Fires and Saving Lives...”, or ours, which was “ ... walking home, dodging brigands, and saving our own lives...”). We included the Required Thematic Element, wherein we, individually and collectively Made the World Safe For Democracy, describing our Close Encounters of The Sixth Kind. It made for an entertaining half hour or so, but, when our audience’s relief arrived, we heard our stomachs rumbling, and knew it was time to go.

Fire Chief Mike Williams greeted us as we entered the fire hall. We were led to the rear of the hall, where there was a map on a board, stood up in the corner. He and the chief of police were very interested in our adventures, and sounded surprised to hear of Lucy’s assault, and my being accosted by armed brigands. Police Chief Bill Evans considered this aloud, “I hadn’t expected the ne’er-do-wells to crawl out of their shadows, this early in the event. Looks like we may have to take a second look at our perimeter plans, and patrol plans, sooner than we had thought!”

Having reported, briefly, to the control center, we headed to my home, promising to return later for a full report.