Rise and Walk (18 page)

“How are you doing with all this shit?” Tony asked without looking up from his magazine.

“Fine, considering, I’ll feel better when we get these chicks back to town,” Jack answered. “What about you?”

“I never shot anyone before. It was weird. The gun put a kooky distance between me and, well, killing. It was too simple to just pull the trigger. I mean I know what I did and that I had to do it. I guess the training took over,” Tony answered. He found himself thankful for all the practice that he and Jack had participated in while growing up. He felt a little strange but he wanted to say something to his brother.

“You know, I just wanted to say, incase we don’t make it …”

Jack cut him off.

“No, don’t. I know what you mean but we’re gonna get out of this.” Jack said with reassurance. He loved Tony like a brother yet thought it best to stay away from any talk of finality. It was important that they both keep their mental edge for whatever came next. Thoughts of their possible demise were counter productive and could fuel self doubt. Tony didn’t hesitate to shoot when he needed to; that was good. He had to keep his brother’s mind focused on the positive.

“Tony, we know what we’re doing. We’re armed and ready. If we have to walk over the top of this mountain, we’ll be fine. I’ll kill a deer for the girls to eat and we can camp our way back to the world. We can handle it. We’ve been getting away with crazy shit for fifteen years,” Mason said with resolve.

Tony knew he was right. He was glad that Mason was with him. Throughout their youth the two friends had always escaped serious trouble. He felt that Jack was his good luck charm.

“We always get away with it,” said Tony.

“Yeah, we sort of do” he answered smiling.

THIRTY

Upon seeing the shack from the road, Lance dropped down into a crouching run. He thought that there may be something in the structure that he could use, perhaps something to drink. Walking in the hot sun had given him a tremendous thirst. As he moved closer he heard voices. He slowed his footsteps to move quieter while reaching his left hand towards the door.

Entering the clearing from the trees, Veronica was the first to see a man with a shotgun enter the door to the shack. She froze expecting to hear a blast kill her new friends.

“Oh shit!” Nikki cursed under her breath. Veronica pulled the pistol from her pocket. She looked at it for a moment and found the safety. The weapon that her father had taught her to shoot with was different than Tony’s gun. She switched the gun to fire and moved carefully towards the shack.

“Wait here,” she whispered with her hand back in a stop gesture. Nikki looked around the empty forest for a moment.
Screw that
, she thought and followed behind Veronica, trying to stay quiet.

Lance burst through the door and caught the men unaware. Tony dropped the Penthouse magazine. It fell open on the floor; a black and white picture of a dethroned Miss America stared up with a wanton look. Both men froze, held at bay by a twelve-gauge shotgun.

“What’s this, a circle jerk?” Lance quipped.

Mason scanned a mental inventory of choices. He put his hands up and slowly side stepped to his right under the pretense of adjusting his posture. The further he could get from Tony, the better chance one of them would have to survive. He knew that a twelve-gauge shot a wide pattern at its target but that pattern dissipated over distance. If he could get far enough away from Tony, a single blast from the shotgun would only hit one of them, not both. It was a long shot but it was something.

“What are you doing here Hoss?” Lance asked, still in the doorway.

Mason gestured with his right hand towards the motorcycles, moving yet another step away from Tony with the movement.

“My bike overheats. Had to stop for a while,” Mason lied.

“Which one?” Lance demanded, casting a greedy eye at the bikes.

“The Kawasaki, I got a bad cylinder.”

Tony looked at Mason, understanding his plan. If the guy was going to steal a bike, give him the one with the poor gas mileage. He saw Mason nudge his foot to the right and wondered why.

“Well, what-say I borrow it for a spell?” Lance smiled. Suddenly, he felt the barrel of a pistol against his head, pushing hard just behind his right ear.

“What-say you put your gun down, slowly,” Veronica said holding Tony’s gun. Lance froze but he wasn’t about to give in just yet.

“Hey, your not gonna shoot me now, are ya darling?”

Veronica cocked the hammer of the pistol back. The sound of the weapon resounded loudly in Lance’s ear.

“I’m gonna spray your cerebellum all over this door if you don’t put that gun down now!” she said in a near growl.

Lance believed her. He suddenly felt very queasy. He stretched the rifle out far from his body with his arms wide. Mason approached quickly, grasped the rifle and brought his fist up underneath Lance’s chin, cracking one of his perfect incisors. Lance lost consciousness with a bright flash of light from behind his eyes.

“I’m gonna spray your cerebellum all over the door?” Jack teased towards Veronica with a disbelieving smile. He and Tony were using duct tape to secure Lance’s arms and legs. Veronica blushed slightly at the friendly taunts.

“Cerebellum?” Jack smiled.

“I like to be specific,” she said in her defense, brushing her now troublesome hair out of her face once again. The men sat Lance’s limp body in a corner near the bench. Mason stood and checked the shotgun, cycling out a shell and reinserting it, then switching the gun to safe.

“Check his pockets,” he said.

Tony was already doing just that. He produced three twelve-gauge rounds and a twenty dollar bill.

“Any one need toilet paper,” he said holding up the cash. Nikki giggled, finding the comment strangely funny. She was glad to see Lance tied up.
That spoiled asshole ran around town for years like he was at the top of the food chain
. It pleased her to see him humbled. Then a thought occurred to her.

“How’d he get out here?” Nikki asked realizing the importance of the question.
If he had a vehicle, we wouldn’t have to walk. Why then would he have wanted to steal one of the motorcycles
? Her hopes dashed at the thought.

“Good question,” Tony said. He slapped his prisoner across the face. “Wake up shit-kicker.”

Lance roused struggling against his bonds. He moved about as if he were tangled up in blankets. As his awareness increased, he thrashed about startled. Opening his eyes he saw Mason standing over him, grinning.

“Morning sunshine.”

Memory returned and Lance relaxed into submission. He was in trouble. He would have to play along and try to get out of the situation.

“Hey,” he acknowledged while avoiding Mason’s gaze. His hands were firmly secured behind his back. As he edged himself up against the wall, he slipped uncomfortably down on his neck. Tony, on one knee, grabbed him by the shoulders and helped him back to a leaning position. He stood leaving Lance to consider his fate.

“Hey,” Mason said low, a devious look in his eye. “You were gonna steal a bike and take off, weren’t you?”

“N-no, I just wanted a ride, a ride away from those things,” Lance said in a trembling voice.

“What happened to your truck?” Veronica asked.

“Josh and Zeke were bit; they went crazy a mile back. We went off the road and broke an axle. They’re dead.” Lance averted his eyes as if the loss of his friends mattered to him.

“How far is the truck?” Tony asked for confirmation.

“About a mile, but it’s busted. Do you have some water?” Lance whined.

Veronica stooped to give Lance the last of her bottled water. She tipped the bottle up for him. He drank in loud gulps without spilling. Tony approached Mason and spoke in hushed tones.

“Can we drain his gas and mix it with what I have left?”

“No, it’ll still be too rich, we don’t have any oil” Mason said.

Nikki, finding her senses sharpened in their current dilemma, overheard the conversation. The idea of having to walk through the forest still frightened her. She spoke.

“Why do you need oil?” her young voice asked.

“Bikes don’t use straight gas, you have to mix it with a special kind of oil,” Tony said turning his attention to her. She was standing in the far corner of the shack, nearest the door with her arms crossed. Tony moved near her.

“How are you holding up?” he asked in his kind manner.

“Oh you know, I wish I was home,” she shrugged her delicate shoulders with a reluctant smile.

“How far is it back to town?” Mason asked Lance.

“About four more hours of driving, I don’t know how many miles.”

Mason sat on the milk crate near Lance with a frown. Tony had seen the look before. Mason was thinking; thinking hard about something that he might not want to get into. It was the face that Jack made when he had an idea that might not work. The face he wore when he was about to put all of his chips in at the poker table. Tony thought that Jack was in that moment where he was deciding whether or not to mention his idea. Mason drummed his fingers on the milk crate underneath him. He looked at the crate between his legs and his expression changed. He had decided that his idea was valid.

“Do you have jumper cables in your truck?” Mason inquired to Lance.

“Yeah, behind the seat.”

“Is your battery good?”

Lance’s expression went blank. He didn’t understand the line of questions. Tony took one step forward; he saw where Mason was heading. It could be a good idea or it could get them killed.

“Yeah, brand new last month, why?” Lance asked realizing with his tongue that the throbbing in his upper lip was a chipped tooth.

Mason stood and looked at Tony who had a severe look on his face.

“Dude …” Tony said.

“It gets us all out of here, but we would have to wait until morning.” Mason offered to Tony. Veronica moved next to Mason and without realizing it, put a hand on his forearm.

“What gets us out of here?” she asked.

THIRTY-ONE

Nikki sat on the brown grass of the clearing watching Tony dig a small fire pit. Her thoughts were a cloud of disappointment. On one hand she didn’t like the idea of sleeping out in the woods. On the other, she didn’t relish the alternative of walking for hours in the dark. Jack said they could make torches to light their way but that brought her little comfort. She wasn’t lazy. She would walk under normal circumstances. Exercise was enjoyable to Nikki and she was in fine shape, but the thought of creeping through the dark unknown made her legs weak. Jack had a plan that he said he would explain over dinner. So now, as the sun fell behind the high hills, she watched the boys make a fire.

Mason arrived with some heavy rocks. He lined the pit with the stones and proceeded to locate more. Nikki rose to her feet to help. She felt out of place. Everyone knew what to do except her. Nikki decided to follow Jack and copy his actions. She found some smaller rocks and brought them to the pit, her white paintball shirt became soiled in the effort.

“Thanks,” Jack said to her when she dropped the rocks for him to sort around the ring. Veronica brought an arm full of dried wood that she had scavenged from the area. Nikki decided to look for wood as well, albeit not very far from the shack. As the sky dropped from bright orange to dark grey, they gathered in front of the fire.

Tony was very helpful to Nikki as he walked her through the finer points of dining in the woods. She had chosen a can of spaghetti and meatballs. Tony opened the can with the can opener on his Leatherman tool, leaving the lid partially on, bent back as a handle. He did the same for two cans of chili and placed them all on the perimeter of the fire to cook. Mason had carved two medium sized spoon-like objects from dried birch branches for the women as eating utensils. He ran them over the fire a few times on the end of his combat knife to seal them from moisture. A few carvings later, he and Tony had two functional sets of chop-sticks, sealed in the same manner. Nikki watched the boys work, fascinated by their comfort and proficiency in the great outdoors. Camping wasn’t her kind of activity.

Jack and Veronica ate chili; Tony dined on two small uncooked cans of salmon. They ate in silence, holding the hot cans in thick motorcycle gloves. The women enjoyed two of the lukewarm Cokes, while the men drank from their canteens. After the meal, with darkness setting in, Jack began to speak.

“Okay, I’ve been thinking about it and I think I got a good plan.” All eyes were on Jack as he continued. “Tony and I head to Dickhead’s truck, swipe his battery and jumper cables, then back into camp and get my truck.” Nikki tensed at the thought of the men returning to camp.

“What if you can’t get to it? What if those things are around?” Nikki pleaded. Veronica looked hard into the fire as if there was some question to be answered within the flames.

“Well, I was thinking that we might get back and find the place full of cops. We can get help then. If not, if those things are still there, we coast in as quietly as possible, get the truck and get out. I have a full tank of gas; it will get us up and over the mountain; back to town.” He looked at Veronica

“Unless you want to ride out tomorrow and take our chances walking,” Jack said to her. She looked at him concerned, the firelight making her sharp features very beautiful.

“Four hours drive in a truck, what’s that, approximately fifty miles?” Veronica asked.

“Depends, but that’s the thing, we don’t know. This is just about all of our food. That’s not a problem, but water?” he said leaning away from the flames. Tony stood stretching.

“With these hills over a great distance,” Tony said doubtful, “in the sun with no water. A four-hour drive could turn into a two-day hike.”

“Dehydration,” Veronica said.

Nikki cringed. She didn’t want the men to go back to the camp, leaving her and Veronica. She feared what would happen if they didn’t make it back. Tony walked away, disappearing into the shack. She watched Veronica.