A New World: Untold Stories (12 page)

With an overwhelming feeling of exhaustion, there’s nothing he’d like more than to just lie down on the road and nap with the sun shining on his face. So far, he hasn’t seen a soul or anything moving. There aren’t even any birds cruising through or circling over the fields. It’s utterly quiet and, knowing that the very air is poisoned, the warmth streaming down from the afternoon sun feels wrong.

Forcing himself to continue, Andrea grabs the handles and lifts. Pushing is an effort and the food sitting in his stomach feels like it may not stay there much longer. He fights against the nausea, knowing that he has to keep his meal down for strength. There is only the crunch of the dirt and small rocks under his feet, the occasional squeal from the front wheel, and the swish of the breeze blowing through the grass. If it wasn’t for everything else going on, it would be a peaceful walk and he might end up miles away from his intended destination, just enjoying the day.

From their position across the ditch, the shadows from the nearby fence poles stretch almost to the road by the time Andrea finally reaches Paolo’s driveway. He immediately gets the impression that no one is home. The place has the feeling of emptiness.

Calling out, his throat hurting from the shout, Andrea waits by the end of the drive. With no response, he wheels the wheelbarrow up the driveway and sets it near the front end of Paolo’s truck. From his vantage point, he can see the front door partially open, which in itself is not unusual. Most out in the country don’t have any form of air-conditioning, so it’s not uncommon to leave doors and windows open to create a breeze through the house.

Steeling himself for the effort, he calls out for Paolo again, with the same result. There’s only the soft sound of the wind blowing through several rows of grape vines along the side yard. Although not really believing there was an outbreak of some new form of rabies, Andrea still approaches the front door cautiously. There’s not really much he can do in his present condition if someone attacked, but there’s the possibility that they may also be in a weakened state. If so, it would more than likely end up like two tired fighters leaning against each other on the ropes.

Climbing the steps to the overhung porch, Andrea peeks inside the crack in the door. Several beams of light stream inside from open curtains, illuminating the interior. Except for dust covering the tops of the furniture, everything looks as it had during previous visits. However, there is an underlying odor of decay that drifts out through the opening. Hesitating to enter, Andrea walks to the edge of the porch to search the fields for Paolo. It’s the same scene as his long trek – there’s nothing moving.

Standing at the front door again, he wonders if Paolo joined the exodus westward. The truck sitting in the driveway says that he should be around somewhere, but that doesn’t mean that he didn’t find a ride with someone else – a relative perhaps. Thinking of his family and not wanting to have wasted the trip, but hesitant to just take a battery, Andrea pushes the door open farther, the hinges creaking.

Stepping cautiously into the room, Andrea stops with a start, his breath catching in his throat. Lying on the couch, unseen from the doorway, a body is stretched out. A pale gray head faces toward the interior with clouded eyes staring at something unseen. Even through the decay, Andrea makes out the unmistakable face of Paolo. Beside the couch lies a pool of dried…something. Feeling his dinner churn in his already nauseous stomach, Andrea backs out of the living room and onto the porch where he stands taking in deep gulps of air: One, to still the nausea and, two, to calm himself.

Restoring a degree of composure, he reenters the house and begins searching for the keys to the truck. It’s obvious that Paolo won’t be able to give his permission and won’t be using the vehicle anytime soon, so Andrea thinks of just using it himself if he can get it to start.

This will save time getting back and we’ll be able to load more stuff
, he thinks, ignoring the stench and body as he heads to the kitchen area.

Hoping to find the keys hanging or on a counter rather than in Paolo’s pocket, Andrea starts his search. The radiant sunshine streaming through the curtain gaps lets in enough light so he can fully explore. His own ailments make him numb to the fact that his friend, really more of an acquaintance that being neighbors means, lies dead on the couch nearby.

With the light taking on an orangish cast, changing from the bright yellow of the day to the glow of early evening, Andrea finds a set of keys lying next to the sink. Feeling fortunate, he palms them and shuffles to the front door. He pauses thinking he should say something for Paolo, but doesn’t really know what to say. He mentally shrugs and heads out the door, leaving it open.

In the truck, he turns the key. The starter cranks over without the engine coming to life. He tries again. The weakened battery barely turns the engine over and then begins a series of rapid clicks. With a sinking feeling, Andrea leans his head against the steering wheel, sorting through his thoughts.

One is that he’ll have to make the long trek back to his house and arrive having failed to provide transportation for his family. In their weakened condition, they won’t be able to walk far. There’s no doubt that they have to leave, but they’ll have to travel miles to the coast and he’s not sure they have the energy to make it that far.

We have no choice; we have to try
, he thinks, wracking his brain for an alternative solution, and finds none.

Steeling himself and gathering resolve to make the journey back, he raises his head. Next to a small barn at the rear of the house, Andrea sees Paolo’s horse grazing lazily next to the barn door.

Of course! I completely forgot about his horse
, Paolo thinks, hope rising.
There’s also a small cart in the barn
.

Sliding out of the seat, he shambles to the structure, his steps quicker. Opening the barn door, he immediately spots the small cart inside, next to the stall reserved for the horse. With quivering muscles, he tosses some of the barley and hay from broken bales into the back. Luckily, the harness meant to pull it is still attached. Knowing he’d be at a loss how to connect the series of straps and poles were it not, he feels fortunate.

Now if the horse will behave
, he thinks, heading outside.

Guiding the horse inside, he lifts the harness and places it across the horse’s back. It takes effort, but he manages, tightening the straps under the belly and across the chest. The horse, apparently used to the procedure, stands docilely. Taking a moment to rest against the large animal’s side, he then puts on the reins and begins leading the horse and cart out of the barn and to the roadway.

The trip back is faster as he doesn’t have to haul the wheelbarrow, which remains sitting near the front of the Paolo’s truck. He would ride in the cart, but the reins are too short. It still takes time and he has to rest periodically along the way but, with the cart, he maintains a measure of hope about getting his family to a safe encampment.

Hopefully they’ll have a medical tent set up to help
, he thinks, eyeing the lengthening shadows of the closing day.

Returning with the dying rays of the sun stretching across the fields, he tells Felisa the news. Suitcases lie on the beds, mostly filled but still being added to under Felisa’s guidance. She and the kids are moving slowly, easily tired and having to rest. However, they manage to make headway toward gathering the items they’ll need for the journey. Andrea heads outside to the shed to add a few items to the rear of the cart. Felisa, finished with the packing, places food and water near the front door. With the sun dropping below the horizon, he feels they have everything they’ll need for the trip in the morning.

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The sun beats down mercilessly as they trudge along the narrow paved highway heading west. Snaking its way through the rough, hilly terrain separating their valley from the coast, the road periodically turns through a series of switchbacks as it climbs and descends the steep slopes. The trip, normally made in minutes by car, is taking considerably longer with Andrea walking alongside the horse, guiding it and the cart by the reins. It’s a slow, plodding trek, but one made easier by the fact that they have some form of transportation.

In the back of the cart, the kids and
Felisa
ride beside supplies piled along the sides and front. For most of the trip, they’ve stared wordlessly at the slowly passing countryside and taken periodic naps. Andrea thought about riding in the cart with his family, but he wouldn’t be able to guide the horse from there. So, he plods slowly beside the dark brown gelding. Even though he only has to walk, they take frequent rest stops. The warmth of the day isn’t helping Andrea’s depleted energy, but they manage to make progress, slow step by slow step.

They pass several small towns and country houses, every one of them carrying an aura of stillness. Andrea hasn’t spotted a single bird or other animal. However, in some of the fields, he’s observed darkened forms of livestock lying among the stalks of grass. He’s not sure why the livestock has died yet the horse still lives. To his great annoyance, the only movement has been the periodic buzzing of insects that are attracted to the sweat oozing from his pores. Tired, Andrea barely has the energy to swipe them from his bare skin when they alight. They fly off only to return seconds later. Where the livestock have fallen closer to the road, he hears the buzzing of flies around the carcasses and watches as small clouds hover around them.

When they are left alone, there is only the creak of the leather straps, the rolling of the wheels across the hard surface, and the clop of the horse’s hooves. Occasionally, the gelding lifts its head and shakes it with a snort.

Having started out just as the sun crested to the east, it’s taken most of the day to transit through the hills. At midday, they stop for a bite to eat. As exhausted as he is and in the heat that seems to bake him, Andrea is barely been able to keep down the little that he eats. He’s used to the heat but, in his state, it is taking its toll, as is the poisonous atmosphere he is trudging through. The hope is that the coastal air will provide for a cleaner environment and that they aren’t too late to save themselves.

As the sun lowers to the west, Andrea leads the horse to the edge of the final ridge of the hills. Before him, the road descends a shallow grade into the plains adjacent the coastline. In the distance to the left, a large ridgeline blocks any sight of the sea but, directly ahead, he sees a thin blue line. Sunlight gleams off the water’s surface. Raising his hands to his eyes, he tries to make out any movement in the valley below. There is nothing to be seen, but he thinks that may be due to the distance.

All of those people went somewhere
, he thinks, looking for some sign of an encampment.

He had expected to see a refugee camp set up somewhere tents lining the fields, smoke from a multitude of fires, perhaps movement from trucks bringing in aid and supplies. There is nothing and it looks very much like what they’ve passed throughout the day signs of civilization but without the people that created them.

With a sigh, he pulls on the reins and begins heading toward the valley. He only makes it partway down the descent when the sun hits the horizon. Knowing he won’t make it to the coastline before dark, he pulls to the side of the road with the last of the daylight bathing the landscape. Even though the moon will be almost full, they’ll need the remaining daylight to prepare dinner and set themselves up for the night. It’s not much as they spread a tarp on the bed of the cart and pull blankets over them. It’s crowded, but they make room and settle in.

Andrea feels the relief of being able to lie down after the daylong trek through the hills. He is a mix of worry and hope as he stares at the glittering stars above. He really hadn’t expected to make it this far when they set out, but he’d focused on one step after the other, each one drawing them nearer to the western coastline. Lying on the hard surface, his weariness diminishes as the heat of the day cools. There isn’t much conversation and, before he knows it, Andrea sinks into the oblivion of sleep.

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Feeling the sun on his face and noting a measure of light leaking through his closed eyelids, Andrea wakens. Blinking from the brightness of the morning and sore from sleeping on the hard surface of the cart bed, he rises and slowly slides to the ground. His head hurts, but he forces himself onto the road. Stretching his back, the kids and Felisa are roused by his movement, waking themselves with groans from similar aches.

Felisa immediately prepares some formula and is barely able to wake Davide for his morning feeding. He listlessly sucks at the bottle a few times before drifting back to sleep. Felisa keeps waking him to feed him more and the process is repeated. While she feeds Davide, Andrea digs through their supplies for a quick breakfast and feeds Donato and Mirella. They still have a ways to go and, although he’s not looking forward to trudging along the road for another day, he is nonetheless eager to set out. Today, if an encampment has been set up, they’ll arrive. It’s with this thought that Andrea pulls on the reins again. The cart lurches forward and their journey continues.