Escaping Home Page 3

  Ben was actually warming up to the idea of spending some quality time getting to know Nate’s parents. When Nate left the house, Ben was on the sofa with Nate’s mom, looking through old photo albums. He was certain to hear stories from Ben later. Henry found the small yellow Geiger counter. He gave it to Nate, along with some advice on using the device. They set it to give him an early warning of increasing radiation levels before it got serious. The counter was small enough to fit in Nate’s jacket pocket for the time being.

  Nate considered his transportation to Fritch. He could easily drive into town. However, that would make him an obvious target to people who have no gas or vehicles. He could take the Ranger UTV, but it was loud and would make even a silent entrance to the outskirts difficult. He couldn’t walk and get back quickly like he planned; it was twenty miles to town. His only remaining option was to take Traveller. It really was his only option. He knew of a few places just outside town where he could tie the horse up.

  Nate gathered up the small gear that he might need for the short journey into town. He decided reluctantly against taking a rifle, and instead carried his pistol with a few extra magazines. This would be a quick trip, and he really didn’t wish to draw attention to himself in town with a rifle strapped to his back. Nate had no idea about the current state of law enforcement in town. He wasn’t sure if Fritch enacted new ordinances, and he didn’t want to draw attention.

  Nate spent some time preparing Traveller for the trip. Once he was done, Nate didn’t waste time. Saddling up, he headed east to the trail that lead him around Lake Meredith to Fritch. Nate kept his travel gear light. He carried his pistol under his jacket, a knife in his boot, and other basic items he would need. He kept the Geiger counter in his shirt pocket. He wasn’t sure if he would really need it, and truly hoped his worries were for nothing. The sun was on the decline behind him as he approached the top portion of the trail that overlooked the lake. When he reached the top, Nate stopped. His first gut reaction made him jump down from his horse and pull Traveller down to the ground to hide. Nate stopped himself, realizing he couldn’t be seen.

  Nate did however, jump down, and pull the horse slowly to the edge of the cliff to get a better look. He removed his binoculars, and zoomed in on what laid before his eyes. The population of Fritch was just over 2,000 people. It was never at any time a crowded place. Nate couldn’t believe his eyes. He wasn’t very far from town, and could easily see with the binoculars hundreds of small bonfires burning in town. The smoke that billowed up into the skies was scary. The wind blew the smoke off to the east. As portions of the smoke cleared, he saw the fires, and the people moving about. Most seemed aimlessly wondering the town. The first thing that came to his mind was old zombie style video games. It was a sad sight. There also seemed to be many motorcycles, cars, and huge semis with box trailers scattered in town.

  Nate could not be certain if these people were stranded here after the collapse, or if they were new arrivals. As much as he didn’t wish to explore the town, he knew it was something he had to do. Nate scanned ahead down the trail to make certain no one was around. There were a lot of small camps on the other side of the shore, but nothing along the steep cliff sides of his location. Nate occupied the high ground. He continued his visual sweep along the path he would take, seeing nothing. He was shocked that people hadn’t ventured out further from town, but he knew it would be just a matter of time.

  Nate climbed back on Traveller and slowly made his way down the trail. Nate knew the area very well and the distances. He wanted to spend the shortest amount of time possible in town. After about twenty minutes, he came to an area where he felt safe to hitch Traveller to a tree. The rest of his journey into town would be on foot. Nate ran his hand over the horse’s mane.

  “I won’t be very long, Traveller; you should be safe here.”

  Nate secured the rope to the small tree. Then he removed a few items from the saddlebags and hid them on his body. He carried a long hunting knife stuffed in his back belt. He also removed three fully loaded magazines for his pistol, placing them inside a pocket of his jacket. The last thing he brought along was two small bottles of water. The sun was going to be down soon, so he hurried himself down the trail leading to town.

  Fritch, Texas was crowded. This wasn’t the small town before the collapse. Since the collapse, many had arrived from nearby highways seeking food and water. Most became – for lack of a better word – squatters. Most made camp near certain areas around the lake. It looked like a massive turnout for a concert that would never happen. Local authorities were strapped with a limited number of resources. The people who lived in Fritch gave when they could, but had to ration carefully. The main issue now was that the food was starting to run out. All typical grocery foods were gone days after the collapse. The sporadic power outages caused refrigerator foods quickly to spoil. Every day became more of a struggle to get protein. Local ranchers donated livestock, hunters helped, and those who could fish made use of the lake. However, since the collapse and lack of available pharmaceuticals, many people died.

  Nate made good time as he came to an opening just outside of town. He stopped in his tracks. He knew the area very well, but found something new. He was looking at an area about the size of a football field. Small mounds of dirt in single file dotted the area. Some were marked with a cross. It was obvious things were getting bad fast. Nate proceeded carefully with respect.

  The high numbers of graves made Nate realize how lucky he was to make it home. This many deaths in his small town meant far more elsewhere. How many of those people were from Fritch was something he didn’t know. The number of people he could see through his binoculars earlier indicated an extreme number of new arrivals. Soon it would be evident if these newcomers were from the meltdown at Glen Rose.

  *****

  After the collapse and eventual loss of reliable television stations, most people resorted to older forms of entertainment. Henry and Betty were no different. However, since the Event as Henry called it, both had grown to enjoy the time exploring new ways to pass time. One thing they did every evening was sit on the front porch and star gaze. In the event it would rain, they would enjoy listening to old albums while playing poker. They used dry elbow macaroni for cash. One evening, Betty surprised her husband with a big bag of M&Ms. They were Henry’s favorite, and supposed to be part of his birthday gift two weeks after the collapse. She offered them to Henry, but he decided they would split the bag and use them for poker cash. The game lasted a few days.

  Tonight, Henry and Betty sat with Ben on the sofa, looking through old photos of Nate and other family members. Ben was laughing and enjoying being able to see the changes Nate went through as he grew up.

  “Dad was always a big looking guy. What grade is this one?” Ben asked, holding up a photo of Nate from junior high.

  Henry took the photo, gazing at it closely. “Well, as your grandfather tries to adjust his eyes, I can tell you that was his eighth grade year.”

  “Just a few years younger than you are now,” Betty said.

  Henry glanced up at her and stuck out his tongue. Ben found this to be very funny and laughed.

  “Here is one of Nate getting ready to drive his first car,” Henry said, pulling the picture up.

  Ben stared at the photo as if he saw something else, but didn’t mention what he was focused on.

  “What is it, Ben?” Betty asked.

  Ben held the photo and spoke slowly. “I never saw pictures of my real father. I only remember him a few times. I think they are maybe the same age, but I don’t know,” Ben replied.

  Betty turned her head to hide the tears.

  Henry spoke next. “Well Ben…Nate – your father now – told us about your father. We are sorry about that; however, never doubt for a second that Nate will be every bit of a father to you. Ok?”

  Ben nodded and then slowly realized maybe he said something the wrong way.

  “I will never doubt that. He saved my
life so many times on the way here. I wish you could have seen how tough he is, grandpa. He never gave up; he did what he said he would do for us. He told me many times, ‘I will get you home.’ I believed him, and now I’m here,” Ben said, smiling with a bright gleam across his face.

  It became apparent at that moment to Henry and his wife that Ben was a deep thinker. He had it all figured out. Most kids his age may not have survived the journey Ben endured. Henry glanced down at his watch. It was nearly 8:30 p.m. and Nate wasn’t back yet.

  *****

  Nate walked carefully into town staying just off the main road. Up ahead he could clearly see large bonfires sporadically set up along the main drag. He assumed this was done to see at night. The sun was nearly down; Nate preferred the cover of darkness at times like this. He wasn’t sure what to expect. People now came into his field of view. Most walked around with their heads down. The familiar landmarks all seemed eroded and vastly different from the last time Nate came to town. He couldn’t even remember that day.

  Nate didn’t stop; he just kept his pace right into town. Now he was walking down the sidewalk. He wanted to get to the main highway that entered town from the east. Highway 136 came in from Borger, Texas. It also came from up from Amarillo which was south and closer to Interstate 40. If people are arriving from the Dallas area, it would be from these two directions. The closer he came to the highway, the more people he saw. There were far more cars moving about than he anticipated. The primary vehicles though were trucks, which carried numerous gas cans in the back. The people he saw looked ragged and tired. The glazed looks of confusion and irritation seemed to portray most. He stopped briefly to open his pocket to check his Geiger counter. So far the device was silent. He had it set to a low volume, and on vibrate mode. He tried not to make eye contact with anyone. Nate didn’t see anyone he knew, and he knew many in the small town. He figured the locals probably stayed inside and away from the newcomers. One thing Nate did notice was the number of armed people. The weapons of choice were shotguns and deer rifles. A very small number carried any AR-15 platform. When Nate came within range of the highway, he suddenly could hear someone speaking very loudly; then it was obvious the person used a megaphone. The voice sounded familiar. Nate stopped about fifty yards from the gathering of homeless looking people. The voice belonged to the Mayor Emmett Yale.

  “We are trying to coordinate with other communities, but we are low on resources. The lake should provide the water needed, and camps are set up to instruct anyone on how to prepare the water safely for drinking and hygiene. We will be passing out rations in the morning, not far from here and just down the street,” the mayor said, not finishing the rest of his sentence as someone yelled out to him. The man that yelled was near the front and dressed in an old dirty sport jacket, slacks, and scuffed dress shoes.

  “You said that two nights ago. We need some food now! These small cups of uncooked rice aren’t enough. WHERE IS THIS SO CALLED FOOD!” the man yelled louder at the end.

  A few supportive yells followed the man’s question.

  “I’m sorry about that, but it seems that someone here broke into the warehouse and stole the fresh meat the hunters brought for us all,” the mayor stated, trying to keep everyone calm.

  Hushed comments followed his statement. Some groans and loud sighs were also heard. Nate studied the crowd; there were a few individuals that looked very ill. A woman in the back was leaning on a homemade cane to help her stand. She turned away from the crowd and bent over to throw up. Her face was white like a bar of Dove soap. However, the vomit was not. It was a bright yellowish color. Nate wasn’t too worried in truth about the radiation being contagious to others. He knew once a person washed themselves and put on new clothing they would not be a danger to others. Furthermore, if they ingested food that was contaminated, they would be sick and still not contagious. The main thing he was concerned with was the number of people arriving, and the ones that had not removed any contaminates from clothing or vehicles. It was likely that the average person was clueless. Nate needed to get with the mayor. He considered it necessary to check and see if he was aware of the Glen Rose explosion.

  He watched and waited for the mayor to finish his speech and proceed off the little stage he stood on. The stage looked like it was left from some past small venue, maybe a singing group.

  Nate walked cautiously through the crowd and watched to see the mayor move with a few men he didn’t recognize. They were likely family or hired protection. So far, Nate saw no police.

  Nate came within twenty feet of the men before one of them spotted him and mumbled to the other man. They both turned and removed small handguns from inside their jackets. They were younger than Nate, maybe by a decade. Their hair was cut short, perhaps a military style cut. Both men were heavy, but not tall.

  “Stop, do not come any further.”

  Nate could tell by the man who voiced the command that he was serious. Nate did as he was told. About this time, the mayor heard the commotion and turned to see Nate. The mayor smiled.

  “It’s ok, guys. I know the man.”

  The guns stayed out, but they held them down to their sides.

  “Nate Michaels. Well, I haven’t seen you in…well, how many years has it been?” Emmett asked as he approached Nate with his hand extended.

  Nate shook his hand as he sidestepped between the two men.

  “At least two years, sir,” Nate replied.

  Emmett was a burley barrel chest of a man. He stood eye to eye with Nate. It was obvious the mayor had lost weight since the last time they met. Emmett seemed happy to see Nate. Their ties went back to high school where they both played football.

  “It’s good to see you, Nate. Where have you been?” Emmett asked as he led Nate down the street to a small office. As they walked down the street, Nate noticed many of the homes looked abandoned. Windows were busted out, and doors were removed; some set on fire.

  “I was stuck up north, just made it back a few days ago. How bad did it get here, Emmett?” Nate replied.

  The two men had put away their guns and seemed more relaxed as they followed Nate and the mayor up the block.

  “At first it wasn’t bad; being isolated out here gave us some independence. Hell, most thought it would blow over like it did so many times before. We had small rushes on groceries, but the first week wasn’t that bad. I will tell you when it got bad, Nate…when people still had electricity and we could see the vast turmoil in the big cities. The failure of the government to head off the utter destruction caused by the rioters seemed to flame the fears. I remember one night watching TV…I think CNN…maybe day five. The reporter was live at Wall Street when a group of rioters suddenly appeared on camera. The reporter tried to call some of them over to interview, and two men walked up to the reporter, pulled out guns, and both of them shot him live on TV. That’s when I knew this was going to get worse,” Emmett said as they came to the main entrance of a small office.

  Nate thought back to that day five; he was still oblivious to everything back then. He was lying under the stars near a campfire having beers with his friends.

  I am very lucky to have made it home, he thought.

  “Come on in to my office, Nate. I know this isn’t City Hall, but it will do.”

  Emmett put a good smile on as he pulled Nate up a chair to have a seat. Nate sat and watched as the two men stayed outside the door.

  “You got two watchful men there, mayor,” Nate said, looking at the two men. One was wiping down his weapon; the other removed a cigarette from his chest pocket.

  “They are actually family; my late wife’s nephews.”

  Nate was stunned by his words, late wife.

  “Rachel? What happened Emmett?” Nate said, getting angry. He naturally assumed something bad occurred.

  “She had type-one diabetes without insulin, Nate…well, you know,” Emmett replied, staring off outside.

  Nate remained silent for a moment. Rachel Yale also
graduated high school the same year that he and Emmett had. She was a great women; she volunteered so much of her time to the town. She single handedly raised money every year to assist the Blue Santa’s Christmas Drive.

  “Emmett, I am so sorry. I know speaking for myself, and likely for the entire town, she was adored and loved,” Nate stated.

  “Thank you, Nate. It hasn’t been easy without her. She was my lantern, my flame, my heart. If it wasn’t for her…well, you know the alcohol issues I had after high school.”

  Nate nodded. “Emmett, I have to ask, where are the city police? I haven’t seen one officer,” Nate asked.

  Emmett slowly shook his head.

  “Nate, when things finally hit bottom here, we still had a police force of twelve officers. One night, a convoy of truckers pulled into town. When I say convoy, I mean forty semis. These men were all armed. They apparently had it in their minds they were going to relieve us all of our food and whatever water they could manage.”

  Emmett paused.

  “That’s a lot of armed men, Emmett,” Nate added.

  “Yes, it was much more than our officers could repel. Those two men you see at the door are what are left of our department. They were actually cadets at the time, but they became officers that night,” Emmett replied.

  Nate looked at the two young men differently now. They must have been thrust into battle not unlike most young military age men throughout time.

  “So, I assume the rest of them didn’t make it?” Nate asked.

  “We had about three make it. They decided to head to the hills with their families after that. We buried all the truckers at a makeshift shift graveyard outside of town. We buried many since the collapse out there,” he replied.

  That must have been the graveyard Nate came across on his way into town.

  “What happened to all the trucks?” Nate asked.