Without (20 page)

It was time to get rid of the scruff. I hadn’t shaved for
ten days since Doc removed the bullet from my face. I didn’t want to do
anything that would risk extending the time it would take to heal. As I swiped
the soapy brush across my jaw, I felt much better about my appearance. I was
looking forward to walking with Perry into town, meeting some of the folks who
were holding down the fort.

After splashing cool water on my face, I stood at the
mirror, admiring Doc’s work. All of the swelling was gone, leaving only dark
circles under my eyes that would be gone in a few more days. The scar on my
left cheek from lancing through the bullet wound started near the corner of my
eye and went down over my cheek bone. On the right side, where my head had bounced
off a limb, the scar was smaller, only about an inch long under my right eye.

I wiggled my fingers which were sticking out of the cast on
my broken arm. Doc said it would be another four weeks before he’d cut it off.
It felt great. The pain was gone.

Turning sideways to the mirror, I inspected the four red
dots where he removed the rest of the birdshot. I had finished the round of
antibiotics and there was no sign of infection. There was still some aching in
my side and ankle where the pellets had hit the bone, but every day it was
getting less noticeable. I considered myself out of the woods.

It had been raining steady for the past two days, saturating
the ground. There was concern that the Tennessee River would overflow its
banks, flooding Stevenson. The TVA no longer had the ability to automatically
control the floodgates in the dams. If there was nobody to manually open or
close the valves, a flood or dam break was imminent. When I went downstairs for
breakfast, Perry was discussing the issue with the family.

“I’m not as concerned about Guntersville Dam as I am about
Nickajack,” said Perry. “Nickajack is upriver about twenty miles or so. If it’s
wide open, then there’s no doubt Stevenson will flood. It’s not an if, it’s a
when.”

“But what if Guntersville Dam is closed?” asked Joey. “Won’t
that be just as bad? I mean, eventually the water will back up to here, right?”

“It’s not likely,” said Perry. “It’s downriver about fifty
miles. I’m pretty sure the water will spill over the top before it gets backed
up enough to flood here. No, Nickajack is going to be the problem.”

“Do you know how to close a dam?” asked River.

“I don’t,” said Perry. “But there’s going to be two
gentlemen at the meeting today that do. Both the Kramer boys work for the TVA.
They say the valves can be opened or closed manually. More importantly, they
know where they are.”

“Good morning,” I said, walking into the conversation. They
all greeted me with the usual warm smiles.

“You feel up to taking a walk today?” asked Perry.

“Very much,” I said. “My ankle feels ready.”

“Good, good,” said Perry. “We’ll head down to the river
before we go into town. I want to see for myself how swollen it is.”

“I have to tell you, Perry. I’m not a fan of the water
anymore. I’ve been in it three times so far, and all three have ended badly.”

“Well, you can wear a life jacket then,” said Perry. “But we
need to go look at it. Doc’s coming with us, so we’re going to swing by his
place. It’s on the way.”

“Can I go with you?” asked River.

“Sure, sweetie,” said Perry.

“I don’t know about that,” said Donna. “It’s not safe for a young
lady to be that far from town.”

“She’ll be fine, honey,” said Perry. “She’s gonna have an
army around her.”

“Okay,” conceded Donna. “Please be careful. All of you.”

After finishing the meal, the traveling party assembled in
the living room. It had been a while since I had needed to strap on my gun
belt. (Joey had been kind enough to clean all my weapons while I was down and
out.) Even though I had just spent ten days in the most comfortable environment
since I left my apartment, I knew the world outside was ten days further into
its decay.

I loaded my shotgun, racked in a round, and then picked up
the assault rifle I took from my father’s gun cabinet. Holding it out to Perry,
he gave me an odd look. He didn’t reach out for it.

“What’s this?” asked Perry.

“It’s yours,” I said. “Right?”

“Yes, it’s my old one,” replied Perry. “You keep that. I
can’t fire two of them.”

“This is a valuable piece of equipment, Uncle Perry. What if
someone else in the house needs it?”

“You say that as if you’re going somewhere, son. You are
someone else in the house. No, you hold on to that. It’s already helped you out
of a jam, hasn’t it?”

“Absolutely,” I replied. “Thank you.”

“Did you bring all the rounds from your dad’s house, or are they
still there?” asked Joey. “As soon as you get that cast off your arm, you and I
need to go get those other guns. He had a badass collection.”

I still hadn’t cleaned my slate. Now was as good a time as
any. I took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

“Guys, there is no house anymore,” I said. “I did hide the
weapons, ammo, and food, but I blew up the house.”

“Come again?” said Joey, jerking his head around to me. “You
blew it up?”

“I did.”

“What the hell, man?” said Joey. “Your own parents’ house
and you destroyed it?”

“If I didn’t,” I said, “then I would’ve never left. I know
it’s difficult for you to understand, but I had to remove it as an option. I
needed to move on.”

“Oh, that beautiful house,” said River, dropping her head
into her hands. “I really wanted to go back there someday. We had so many good
memories there. You’re right, I don’t understand.”

“I do,” said Perry, standing beside me, putting his arm
around my shoulder. “And I don’t blame you. Sometimes you gotta take away that
safety net. It
was
a pretty house, though.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I really am.”

“Well, at least you spared the guns,” said Joey, smiling.

“I did save a lot of things from inside. I do want go back
and get them.”

“We’ll all go with you,” said Perry. “We can cross the river
at Bridgeport.”

“I’d appreciate that,” I said.

Bristling with guns to make Donna feel a bit more
comfortable, we started out down the road. Doc’s house was less than a mile
away. He had a breathtaking plantation style home with dogwood trees canopying
the driveway. I could only imagine how beautiful it was when they bloomed. He
was rocking on the front porch, sipping a cup of coffee when we arrived. Kelly
was rocking beside him.

“Beautiful morning, isn’t it?” greeted Doc.

“It is,” replied Perry, shaking his hand. “Even more
beautiful with this one sitting beside you.”

“Always such a gentleman,” said Kelly, standing to give
Perry a hug. “Donna’s a very lucky woman.”

“Please tell her that next time you see her,” said Perry. “I
still don’t think she knows.”

“Oh, she knows,” said River, laughing. “Are you coming with
us?”

“I am,” said Kelly, turning to look at me. “You look like a
different man every time I see you.”

“It’s amazing how sobriety can change a guy,” I said. “It’s
good to see you.”

“The gang’s all here,” said Pastor Jenkins, coming out the
front door. I was impressed to see an AK-47 slung over his shoulder and a 9mm
on his hip.

“Good morning, Pastor,” I said, extending my hand.

“Please, call me Rick. You look good, my man. You know,
chicks dig scars.”

I liked him.

“How old are you guys?” asked Kelly.

She stood, pulling the slide on her pistol, chambering a
round. She returned it to her holster and reached down beside her rocking chair
for a shotgun. As the seven of us headed down the driveway, I thought about how
right Perry was. We were a small army. I had known three of the seven for only
ten days, but I’d be a warrior for any of them if need be.

“It’s good to see her out and about,” said Kelly, walking
beside me, nodding towards River. “That’s one very strong lady.”

“For you to say that, she must be,” I said.

“You don’t know?”

“I know her husband died trying to save their daughter from
a house fire,” I said. “I didn’t think I needed to pry about the details.”

“We think it might have been the same group that attacked
me,” said Kelly, lowering her voice. “They held them hostage for two days
before killing her husband and then setting the house on fire. River had
succumbed to the smoke when a neighbor pulled her out. They couldn’t get to her
daughter in time.”

It was like somebody had punched me in the stomach. “The
same group?”

“Your uncle, Joey, and Rick went looking for them,” said
Kelly. “They were gone for two days up on the mountain, but they didn’t find
them. Mine and hers aren’t the only stories. We figure they attacked at least
five other families.”

“Fucking animals,” I whispered through clenched teeth.

“I agree,” said Rick, walking up beside me. “If I ever got a
hold of them, God would have to forgive me after.”

“Do you think they’re still around?”

“I hope so,” said Rick, moving up the line.

“He’s not your typical pastor,” said Kelly.

“Not like any I’ve known,” I said. “He seems like a good
man.”

“He is,” said Kelly. “He tends to take it personal when any
of his flock is hurt by someone else. I believe him when he says he’ll find
them.”

“I like his style,” I said.

“He likes you,” said Kelly, turning to look at me. “He says
he can see it your eyes.”

“See what?”

“Determination.”

“What do you see?”

“I see how Perry laughs again like he used to all the time,”
said Kelly, moving closer to me as we walked. “I see River up there with a
smile on her face, walking with confidence. I see Doc who talks about you
incessantly.”

“Really?”

“Really,” said Kelly. “He says you’re a fighter. He also
says there’s something about you that’s very intriguing. It’s the only way I
can figure he’s walking with us instead of being at the hospital where he
practically lives.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question,” I said. “What do
you see?”

“I will say there is something about you, but I’m not sure
what
that
is.”

“Well, it’s not my good looks,” I said, smiling.

“They’re getting better,” said Kelly, grinning.

A mile from where the river was supposed to be, we were
standing at the water’s edge. Twenty yards out, it was moving fast. Everyone
knew it meant the river was still on the rise.

“I guess that settles it,” said Perry, scanning up and down
the banks. “We’ve got to get the Kramer boys up to Nickajack Dam. Any more rain
and we’ll be swimming through downtown. It’ll soon be the same story in
Bridgeport and Scottsboro.”

“Until we do, we need to get everybody to higher ground,”
said Doc. “We’re back in the Stone Age with any kind of weather forecasting. By
the time we see dark clouds over our heads, it’ll be too late.”

“Higher ground,” said River. “You mean going up into the
hills, right? Their hills.”

“Our hills,” said Doc. “Not theirs. Those chickenshits won’t
come after a big group.”

“No offense, Doc,” said River, “but they’re not going be
afraid of old men, women, and children. You and I both know my dad, Joey, Rick,
and every other able bodied man will be leaving us.”

“I’m not that old, River,” I said, putting my good arm
around her. “I won’t let you out of my sight. I won’t let them get near you.”

“They’re not going to be afraid of you either,” said River,
ducking under my hold, walking away. “They’ll come after you, too.”

I hope so.

Doc was moving a little slower on the walk to downtown
Stevenson from the river. When Kelly told me he was seventy-two years old, I
looked at her like she was crazy. I pegged him for being in his late fifties,
early sixties at the most. He was carrying a few extra pounds with a round
jolly face, but when that old-timer yanked my arm, I thought it was going to
come out of the socket. He slowed down a bit, but he never stopped. I imagine
that’s the way he lived his life. That man was not a quitter.

Stevenson, Alabama, had a population of seventeen hundred
before the event. Kelly told me less than half were accounted for, and even
fewer were active in the community after 8:13. Most of the able bodied men were
sent to the larger towns of Scottsboro and Bridgeport to defend against
drifters, looters, and cowards. That left Stevenson with a population consisting
of the elderly, women, and children.

Stevenson, Scottsboro, and Bridgeport were well prepared
prior to the world stopping. They seemed to have the same philosophy as I did,
making plans and not hesitating to execute them. As we approached the railroad
tracks that paralleled Main Street, there was a buzz of activity. I froze when
I saw it. My jaw dropped when it started moving.

You’ve gotta be kidding me.

“Impressive, isn’t she?” said Perry, noticing my amazement.
“I have to tell you, I’m a little surprised we haven’t seen or heard any others
on the rails.”

“How is that possible?” I asked.

“It runs on steam, city slicker,” said Perry. “The only part
that was electric was the headlight. But we replaced it with an oil lamp.”

“We rolled it right out of the museum,” said Doc, pointing
to a large building on Main Street. “Stevenson was born a railroad town, son.
The curator is our conductor and the crew is a group of steam engine
enthusiasts. They have two working steam tractors for the fields and another engine
that pumps the water into the tower. We should have a third tractor up and
running in a few days. There were five altogether, but we had to cannibalize
the other two.”

“It wasn’t like we could walk into the NAPA and find parts,”
said Joey.

I stood in amazement as the steam powered locomotive chugged
passed us. With nothing but smiles and pride, everyone I could see was waving
at the conductor. Attached to the locomotive were a tender and two passenger
cars. On top of each passenger car were sandbag turrets with .50-caliber
Browning machine guns manned by two crewmen at each station. Nobody moved until
it disappeared around a bend, leaving a thick trail of smoke and steam behind
it.

“It’s our lifeline between Scottsboro and Bridgeport,” said
Perry. “None of this would be possible without that train. They’re heading
south to pick up the community leaders for the meeting and some of our boys for
the festival tonight.”

“You’re having a festival?” I asked.

“Every year in June,” said Doc. “It’s the annual Depot Days
celebration. It’s usually a week-long event that ends with a street dance in
the middle of town, but this year we’re just having the dance.”

“It’ll be good for all of us,” said Perry. “We need this to
take our minds off our troubles.”

“We just left trouble,” I said. “What about the river
flooding?”

“I’m not a procrastinator,” said Perry, “but it can wait
until tomorrow.”

“I agree,” said Rick. “We’ll talk about it at the meeting,
but there isn’t much we can do about it today. We’ll take the Kramer boys on
the train up to Bridgeport tomorrow. From there it’s a five-mile hike to the dam.
We can have them there by early afternoon.”

“Besides, there’s no guarantee they can close off the valves
once they get there,” said Doc. “No, we’re going to have our dance tonight.
It’s important we lift the spirits of the town every once in a while. A lot of
folks are looking forward to this.”

Downtown Stevenson was tiny. No buildings were over two
stories, and they were all situated on one side of the tracks. The museum in
the center of the strip – that once housed relics – was alive with activity as
several older men were working on the last salvageable steam tractor.

After I was introduced to the crew, we continued to the
Stevenson Career Center which held the offices for local officials and where
the community meetings were held. The initial suspicious looks I received from
the townfolk melted away into smiles and warm greetings when they discovered I
was kin to Perry. Some already knew who I was. (I found out that they were told
not to shoot the guy with the raccoon eyes and a cast on his right arm.)

Remembering earlier conversations, I noticed the near
complete absence of men under sixty. (I imagined this scene was common in the
1940s when America’s young men were overseas in World War II, leaving behind a
workforce of women, and older men.) The few I did see were engaged in some type
of manual labor or heavy lifting. When they saw us coming, they’d stop what
they were doing to interact. It had nothing to do with meeting me and
everything to do with seeing Kelly.

If I didn’t meet everyone in Stevenson, it had to be damn
close. After a few hours of greetings and the tour of the town, my group of
seven split up. Doc and Kelly went to the hospital located in the last building
on Main Street. (It was more like an urgent care clinic, no bigger than a
convenience store.) Rick headed to the church two streets over to help his
flock prepare for the festivities. Perry, Joey, and River headed home to help
Donna with the myriad of dishes she was going to bring to the party. I went
back to the museum to hang out with the old-timers. I was fascinated by their
work.

“Would you guys mind if I stuck around for a bit?” I asked.

“Not at all,” replied Bruce. “Why don’t you use that good
hand and grab that wrench for me.”

“This is all amazing,” I said, handing him the wrench, “but
that locomotive is a thing of beauty.”

“She is,” said Parker, working on the other side of the
tractor. “She ran the triangle from Chattanooga to Nashville and then to
Birmingham for over twenty years. I reckon she’ll be doing it again soon.”

“She was built back in 1940,” said Bruce. “They decommissioned
her in ‘61, and we had her in here for almost forty-seven years after.”

“Didn’t take much to get her going again, either,” said
Parker. “The mayor, God rest his soul, came to us two years ago asking if she
could ever be rail worthy again.”

“I said, ‘shoot’,” added Bruce. “‘Give me what I need and
I’ll have her belching out steam in two weeks’. I did it in ten days.”

“You did it?” said Parker, peeking from around the
seven-feet-tall steel wheel. “All by yourself? Dang, you are good.”

“Cut it out, you old fart,” said Bruce, laughing. “You know
I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Still can’t. Anyway,” said Parker, “you see, all this mess
doesn’t affect me at all. I remember the days when there was hardly a car
around here and everybody walked or rode horses. This town was all about the
train. We didn’t even have our first electric street light until 1950. You see,
I remember what it was like not to have it. Power, I mean. Ain’t no big deal
for me. These younger folks, they didn’t know what to do when it went out.”

“You should’ve seen their faces when we fired her up for the
first time on the rail,” said Bruce. “It was like they were witnessing a
miracle when she lurched forward, making that run to Bridgeport. I guess it
kind of gave them hope.”

“I’m sure it still does,” I said. “And you have a steam
engine for the water system?”

“We do,” said Parker. “We can use the engine for practically
anything, but they decided keeping that water tower full was the best place for
it. We power it up the tower, and gravity moves it down. All the comforts of
home.”

“You’ve never had running water at your house,” said Bruce.
“What do you know about the comforts of home?”

“Don’t have power either,” replied Parker. “Ain’t you been
listening? That’s why none of this affects me.”

“I’ve never asked this question before,” I said, “but what
do you two think happened?”

“I don’t really care,” answered Parker, leaning against the
wheel. “I’m ninety-two years old. I wake up every morning pissed off that I
woke up at all. I just sit up, shaking my head that the good Lord left me down
here with this jackass for another day.”

“Aw, that’s sweet,” said Bruce. “Why don’t you go lie down
on the track? Train will be back in an hour.”

“That’s a good idea,” said Parker. “Thank you.”

“What do you think, Bruce?” I asked, smiling at Parker. “Where
did the power go?”

“Well, I’m no scientist, but I do know a thing or two. It’s
just my opinion, but I think nature had enough of our mess. I think she changed
it up on us.”

“Changed what?”

“How it works. You see, you need certain elements in a
specific order to produce and store electricity. If one of those goes away, so
does the power and the ability to hold it in a battery.”

“How does it go away?”

“That, I don’t know,” said Bruce. “But really, it hasn’t
gone away. Just our ability to make it. If I shuffle my feet across the carpet,
I still get shocked when I touch a doorknob. You’ve seen the lightning storms
lately. Mother Nature still knows how to make it.”

“Like everything else we try to control,” said Parker, “there’s
something more powerful out there that’ll take it away from us. That’s all it
is. She took it away from us. Now we’ve got to figure out a new way to get it.”

“A new way to get it?” I asked. “I didn’t think you had a
use for it.”

“I don’t,” said Parker. “I just know how scared folks are
these days. People killing each other for things they shouldn’t have to kill
for. Those two pretty ladies you were with, River and Kelly, bad things like
that should’ve never happened to them. Never. Other than Bruce here, this town
is full of good people who’d do anything for you. There’s no need to kill for
it.”

“Thank you for your time,” I said. “I’ll let you get back to
it.”

“Nice talking with you, son,” said Bruce. “Come by anytime
when Parker isn’t here. He should be dead in an hour or so.”

I stepped outside onto the sidewalk, looking around at all
the activity. Finishing touches were being put on a stage constructed across
the street near the tracks. Instruments were being tuned by the musicians as
ornaments and lanterns were being strung from posts, crisscrossing the street.
When people passed by, they all greeted me with smiles and nods. They were
right for wanting the dance to take place. At least for one night maybe the
problems of the new world would wait for the last song before they came back.

With a feeling of anticipation that didn’t come around often
in those days, I made my way back to the house. When I came through the front
door, I was hit with some of the best aromas anybody could imagine. Walking
into the kitchen, I busted Perry sticking his finger in an apple pie. Donna
turned around, smacking his hand with a wooden spoon. He pulled it back, giving
me a wink and a smile. After hugging his wife he and Joey left a few minutes
later to make the meeting that would take place before the dance.

I sat in the kitchen with River and Donna as they packed the
pies into baskets. As the minutes passed I could feel their excitement grow.
They were both looking forward to the evening’s festivities.

Walking upstairs to my room to get ready, I found a neatly
folded stack of clothes on the bed. Dressing after my shower, I stood in front
of the mirror for a final inspection. I stared into it, hoping I’d never wake
up from this dream.