Dark Road (17 page)

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Authors: David C. Waldron

BOOK: Dark Road
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Bekah nodded as she started putting on her t-shirt.

“Jessie, you ok with sharing a bed tonight?” Marissa asked.

“Uh huh,” Jessie said. “I’m just cold.”

“Well that’s why you’re sharing. Bekah will help keep you warm.” She said.

Since they were going to share one sleeping bag, Dan put the other one underneath for extra padding. “There, how’s that, all comfy?” Dan asked.

Bekah nodded, but Jessie was already starting to drift off.

Neither Dan nor Marissa was ready to call it a night yet since the sun was still up, and it was nice to be able to just sit next to each other and watch the girls fall asleep, and listen to the rain.

“How long has it been since we’ve done this?” Dan asked.

“The sitting under an underpass part, or the sleeping outside in the rain part?” Marissa said.

Dan sighed. “The sitting together with nothing else to do but keep each other company part,” he said.

“Oh that,” Marissa said and put her head on his shoulder. “I honestly can’t remember. Months, most likely.”

“That’s what I came up with.” Dan said.

“We need to do this more often then,” she said.

“Which, the sitting under an underpass or sleeping outside in the rain?” Dan asked.

Marissa giggled and lightly punched Dan in the side.

 

 

 

Chapter Seventeen

The bikes and tarps made a decent windbreak, and the median was situated so that they were raised above the road, rather than below it, so they stayed dry all night. Marissa and Dan took turns keeping watch in three-hour shifts, because neither of them had been getting much sleep, and Marissa knew Dan had to be exhausted.

The rain tapered off to a drizzle shortly after Dan woke up for his second shift, and finally stopped altogether for the night around midnight.  By the time Marissa got up for her second shift it felt like it was about 75, and the humidity made it uncomfortable.

“Three hours ago it was chilly,” she said when Dan woke her up. “Now it’s sticky and gross. Why can’t the weather make up its mind?”

Dan was smart enough to keep his mouth shut about how fickle
Mother
Nature could be or he’d never get that last three hours of sleep. “It only just stopped raining recently. Give it another couple of hours and it should dry out a bit.”

Marissa harrumphed and redid her hair in a high ponytail to get it off her neck.

“It’s warmer, but it’s actually drier by the fire.” Dan said. “If you are willing to make the trade-off…”

“I may just do that.” Marissa said as he lay down. “Anybody or anything show up so far?”

“I thought I might have heard some animals, but I didn’t see anything.” Dan said. “Whatever they were, they didn’t get close enough for me to see, even with the flashlight.”

Marissa nodded and took up her place with her back to the fire to keep her night vision from being totally destroyed. “Try to get some more sleep,” she said, but Dan was already starting to drift off.


It rained off and on all night, which brought both the temperature and the humidity back down and seemed to have the added benefit of keeping the family isolated all night. One of Marissa’s biggest concerns after the second day, and the encounter at the underpass on the outskirts of Nashville, had been running into organized gangs on the road. So far, they hadn’t seen any groups larger than six—with one exception—and most had been three or four.

Everyone on the road had been cordial enough, but had done their best to stay clear of everyone else. More than once the family had moved to the other side of the highway since
they
were the larger group, being cautious and at least trying to not appear threatening.

She felt more comfortable now that she had a sling for the shotgun, which she’d traded for back in Kingston Springs, and she was relieved that they had more food. She was so proud and amazed at what Dan had done back there she could hardly contain herself.

She was also afraid of what might happen later when it hit him that he’d saved a man’s life but hadn’t been able to save his own son. She hoped it wouldn’t come across that way to Dan, but knowing him the way she did, she was all too aware that it probably would—and how he would react.

Marissa pushed the thought aside as she got up to stretch her legs and patrol what perimeter they had. The fire was down to just an occasional flame since she had been feeding it large logs to keep it from going out, and maintain the bed of coals. Her night vision hadn’t been ruined by the fire, so she left the flashlight and walked quietly from the median over the eastbound lanes, scanning both near and far for any lights or movement on the road to the west, did the same to the east, and then repeated the process on the westbound side of the highway.

Nothing to be seen as far as her eyes could make out—although she imagined she could see fires back in the town two turns back. “I miss sleeping in a house,” she said under her breath.

“We’ll have a house eventually.” Dan said, quietly, from where he’d been asleep on top of his sleeping bag.

“Sorry,” Marissa whispered. “I was trying not to wake you up.”

“You didn’t, it’s my turn to stand watch,” he said. “We’ll have a house, or at least a home, again eventually.”

Marissa sighed. “I know, and we’ve only been gone a week, or so, but I never expected it to be this rough.” She said. “I don’t know what I
did
expect, but it wasn’t this.”

Dan chuckled quietly. “Thirty miles a day, three days and we’d be there.” He said.

“Yeah, probably something like that.” Marissa said. “With a hot shower, plenty of food, and a nice bed at the end.”

“Ok, now we have to stop or I’m going to cry.” Dan said with a fake frown.

“Agreed, now get off my bed.” Marissa said.


Breakfast was rice cereal—made with brown rice, raisins, sugar, and powdered milk—heavy on the rice. It was filling, and Dan had started the rice cooking for Marissa before she got up for her last watch, so it was warm and ready when everyone got up.

“How’re you feeling, honey?” Dan asked Jessie while she was eating breakfast.

She made her squinty-eyed monster face.

“Is that a comment on my cooking, or how you’re doing?” Marissa asked with a smile as she gently tickled Jessie in the stomach with a finger.

“How I’m feeling,” Jessie giggled, and then stopped when her mom stopped tickling her.

“Well, you don’t have a fever.” Dan said after he checked her forehead.

“I’m just still tired and,” she made her monster face again.

“Well, you can try to sleep today, ok?” Marissa said.

Jessie nodded and finished her cereal.

“How ‘bout you, Bekah?” Dan asked. “You sleep ok?”

“Once I warmed up I don’t remember anything until you told me breakfast was ready.” Bekah said.

“Are you feeling ok?” Marissa asked.

Bekah nodded. “Uh huh, fine.”

“How many fingers am I holding up?” Dan asked as he constantly changed the number of fingers he was holding up.

Bekah practiced giving him “the look”.

“Yup, she’s fine.” Dan said.

“Let’s get cleaned up and hit the road before it gets too hot.” Marissa said. “If today is anything like yesterday…”

“I am NOT performing surgery today!” Dan said.

“Which is not where I was going, wise guy,” Marissa said. “What I
was
going to say is that it will be hot in the middle of the day. I don’t want any of us getting sick from heat stroke, so once it starts getting too warm I want us to pull over and build a shelter now that we have a couple of tarps and sit out the hottest part of the day.”

“Good idea.” Dan said. “We can go later into the day, too, and make up the time since we won’t be as tired, hopefully.”

“Exactly. Hopefully water won’t be quite the issue it has been the last couple of days, either.” she said as she looked out at the drying pavement.


Two days and eighteen miles later it was time for both lunch and their mid-day break.

“I want to try to conserve matches, Rissa; I’m going to make a fire-bow.” Dan said.

Marissa just looked at Dan for a second before she replied. “I love you,” was all she said at first.

“Um, I love you too.” Dan said.

“But you really don’t need to do that, Dan.” Marissa continued. “Really, you don’t. We have two more full boxes of wooden kitchen matches, three lighters, and the two cautery tools you took from the ambulance.”

“I know, but if we don’t need to use those I’d rather hold on to them, you know, until we need them.” Dan said.

Marissa shook her head. “Dan,” she took a breath because she was pretty sure she knew both where this came from and where it was headed, and it all stemmed from hormones. “I’ll try to be gentle but do you even know how to make a fire bow, I mean really know how?”

At this point Dan bristled and started to get visibly defensive and into what women the world over would recognize as “of course” mode. “Yes, I know how to build a fire bow.” He proceeded to describe the parts needed, almost verbatim, from the book he got from the library.

Marissa sighed. “Did you know how to build one
before
you got the book from the library?”

Dan deflated a little bit, but was not overly deterred. “Yes, mostly, yes.”

“I’m not going to convince you not to do this, am I? It doesn’t matter that the book also says that it’s the most energy consuming and difficult way to build a fire next to a fire drill, and should only be attempted if you have no other way.” Marissa said.

“We have a limited number of resources and I don’t want to waste them.” Dan said

“You have a limited amount of energy, Dan; you’ve eaten something like three hundred calories today. You don’t think trying to start a fire by rubbing two sticks together isn’t a waste? They try it
every
season on Survivor and it
never
works…ever. Not one, single, time.” Marissa replied

“Well, maybe they were using the wrong wood. They are usually in tropical locations and those are known for hardwoods. If you use the wrong…” Dan was cut off by Marissa.

“Fine, build your fire bow.” She said.

“All I’m saying is…” Dan tried to go on convincing his wife but she was having none of it at this point.

“I said build your fire bow, I’m done talking about it. I’m getting hungry so make it quick.” She said and walked away.


Forty-five minutes later, Dan was done gathering everything he needed and had been drilling for fifteen minutes. He was sweating like a horse and had succeeded in making half a dozen small piles of dark-brown sawdust that smelled like smoke, but no embers.

When asked by the girls what he was doing, he told them “Daddy’s making a fire without matches.” Marissa corrected him by answering that, “Daddy’s
trying
to make a fire without matches” which simply made him redouble his efforts, usually causing the spindle to fly out of the bow. To her credit, Marissa never once laughed.

Marissa, on the other hand, was done waiting and struck the match and lit her fire. Dan ignored the smell of wood smoke, although it did make him drill faster and press harder on the spindle.

Five minutes later, the water was boiling and Marissa was making soup for the girls—they always fed the girls first. A few minutes later, more water was boiling.

“Hungry for lunch?” Marissa asked Dan.

He didn’t reply and just kept drilling.

Marissa realized that she was going to have to make him his soup, take it to him, give it to him, and possibly force him to drink it. She’d be damned if she was going to apologize, though.

She walked over to where he was drilling and squatted down next to him.

“Dan, stop. Please.” She said. “Bring it with you and pick it up later if you want or need to, but stop for now. We need you to have some energy left for later today. Eat your lunch.”

Dan stopped but she could see his grip on the bow tighten. Dan hated being wrong. He wasn’t prone to violence, but she could tell he wanted to break the bow and the spindle into splinters right now.

“Dan, please?” She said.

“I’m sorry.” He said. “I’m exhausted and I wasted all that time and energy, and I was wrong. Happy?” The bitterness in Dan’s voice wasn’t directed at her, but it still stung.

“No Dan, I’m not happy.” She said. “I’m not happy about any of it. I’m not happy that I was right, I’m not happy that you are exhausted, I’m not happy that you were wrong. I love you, you idiot, now drink your soup before it gets cold.”

Dan managed a wan smile. “Yes, ma’am.”


They only made it a couple more miles before Marissa noticed that Dan was lagging—which didn’t surprise her—but when she looked at Dan, she noticed Jessie, and what she saw was cause for concern.

“Dan,” she said with some urgency. “Jessie doesn’t look good.”

She had her arms wrapped around her like she was cold, and looked like she was trying to cuddle into the side of the trailer. They all pulled over and got her out of the trailer and Dan checked her for a fever.

“Honey,” Dan said. “You’re burning up. Why didn’t you say something when we stopped for lunch?”

Jessie just hunched her shoulders and then started to cough a little. Marissa looked alarmed but Dan knew it wasn’t anything like what they had experienced back at home and immediately grabbed Jessie around the waist and ran into the grass. Usually, Marissa was the one who could tell the kid’s different coughs apart, but Dan had been around all the sickness in the neighborhood recently and he had the difference between the cough the kids had made when they were on death’s door and the pre-barf cough down pat.

He got Jessie away from all their stuff and into the grass just in time to keep her from throwing up on anything but maybe their shoes, and he was going to keep that to a minimum if he could.

“Rissa,” He hollered back over his shoulder. “We need some water and a washcloth.”

When Jessie was done she corrected her father and yelled, “Please.”

“Please,” He yelled as well, and chuckled. “Even sick you’re getting back to your old self, I see.”

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