Chapter 2

We set off down County Line Road, heading towards Collegedale. This was about 15 miles, and on the order of 1/2 way for Emily, but I had a detour in mind. My friend Andy, old EMS partner and generally outdoorsy guy, lived just west of Collegedale, and I figured that a two day walk, with a lay-over at his place in the countryside, might help us with a shake-down of our arrangements. It would likely add a half a day or so to our walk, but the opportunity to sleep indoors, in a secured location, would likely prove very attractive.

The first kilometer or two proved slow going, as things that I had thought I had secured, rattled, and things that I had thought would not chafe or rub, did. Similarly, Emily adjusted and re-adjusted her pack and load, until it became clear that some fine tuning was required. We stopped. A few minutes with some re-rigging, and some more duct tape, and we were pretty quiet, and the obvious chafing had been resolved.

My plans for the night involved making around 10 miles all told, and, conveniently enough, right around mile 8 there was a township park, with a hand pump well and pit toilets. That would be a convenient stop for refilling our canteens, and perhaps for a wash up. I figured that we could skirt the little burg of Sugarbush, and creep into the park from the railroad side. That would satisfy my goal of stealthiness.

Shortly after our stop, I diverted us west down a side street. This was still residential, but quiet in the early evening twilight. We soon reached my destination, and turned south again along the railroad right of way. Emily noticed, and commented.

“Wouldn’t it be easier along the road?”

“Probably. But, if it is easier for you and me, won’t it be easier for anybody wandering around? Or, perhaps worse, somebody looking to remedy the gaps in his preparations for this sort of midnight stroll?”

“Wouldn’t you help somebody in need? You couldn’t simply walk past them, and leave them helpless, could you?”

“Well, if my thoughts regarding the lesser traveled nature of this railroad prove out, we won’t have to discover the answer to that question, will we?”

“So, you aren’t going to answer my question, are you?”

I stopped. There were several lessons yet to be mastered, and sooner would be better than later. “Emily, you are a very nice woman, and an excellent nurse. You are now proving that you are a Christian, through and through. I, on the other hand, am a bastard. I try to live my life by duty, and honorable actions. You are here, now, with me, because, being my co-worker, I have some slender reed of duty toward you. On the other hand, I have a singular and primary duty to my wife, to get home and help her deal with the changes this event will bring. Clear so far?”

She looked puzzled, but seemed to be following. Her gaze met mine in the near dark. “I guess so.”

“Good. Here is the tough part. I have no duty whatsoever to random people that I meet, except to not hinder their efforts to make it in this situation. If I succeed in my goal to slip home ghost-like, everybody wins. Your duty, now that you are here, is to be quiet, not attract attention, and work with me until you are home. At that point, you and John can be as helpful, or as stealthy, as you decide is best for you and your children. So far, make sense?”

“So, are you trying to be my boss or something?”

“Nope, completely uninterested. I’m simply telling you my rules for getting home in this sort of catastrophe. If you don’t like them, feel free to make your own way home, and good luck to you. Me, I am going home, I am not going to accept being stopped, and I will try not to interfere with anybody else trying to make it through this thing. But, if they try to stop me, or try to rob me, it will end poorly. I will not quietly allow anybody to stop me.”

“So, you’d shoot some poor guy only trying to feed himself, or his children?”

“Not if I can avoid it. If they allow me to avoid them, no. If they have enough sense to take ‘NO!’ for an answer, no. If they mean to rob me, or assault me, well, I will not stand by and admire their technique. If that requires killing them, then it requires killing them.” I paused, then continued. “You might want to consider how single unarmed women have fared in unsettled times. Women in Sarajevo, in Dubrovnik, in Tikrit, in Homs, how do you suppose that they fared? How about the women, and girls, in the Dome in New Orleans, after Hurricane Katrina? While we aren’t there, yet, “ I raised my hands, heading off her protest, “How long do you suppose it will take before the sociopaths decide that the Sheriff’s Department is not answering their phones, and Judgment Day is going to be a while coming? Might not be very pretty.”

“I don’t think things are ever going to get that bad. This is America, after all!”

“Yep, that it is. As was New Orleans. This is the America of Ferguson, of Baltimore, of Jeffrey Dahmer, and God alone knows how many other predators who have no conscience. If they see me as prey, then I am food. If they see you as vulnerable, you might be another kind of tasty morsel, entirely, for them. I do not plan on being any part of that little show.”