Write a riveting tale that takes place within the confines of one hour.

 

The Survivors, Chapter 4

Approx 2,694 words

©2004 by W. E. Lopez

 

Don helped Maggie put the dinner dishes in the sink and the kids belted into passenger seat of the dinette.  Naturally, as kids will do, Doris and Mikey each wanted to have the seat upfront next to Don, but Maggie put her foot down.

“Does your mother let you ride up front?” Maggie asked.

“Well… only when she’s not driving with us, then daddy usually let’s Mikey ride up front.  Daddy says he needs to keep an eye on Mikey.”

“Don and I have to keep an eye on both of you,” Maggie said, “and I might have to help Don keep an eye on the road too.  You’ll be safer if you sit right there and keep your seat belts fastened.  We never expect to get into an accident, but you can never tell, and seat belts help to keep you safe.”

Doris looked disappointed, but Maggie had just noticed the passenger seat was a “captain’s chair” which could be turned around to face the rear.  “What if I turn my chair around so I can see you and you can see me too?  Would that be better?”

Both children seemed to think that was a marvelous idea, why, Don couldn’t guess, but if it made them happy, he was happy also.  With his little band of survivors ready for the road once more, Don turned the key and pulled out of the parking lot then north, into the waste land on a less traveled road.  To minimize the risk of accidents, he kept his speed to twenty-five, but there was no traffic on this seldom used road.  It was clear of tumbleweeds and other obstructions, evidently the county graded a minimum of once each year, but it became rough gravel after less than a mile of driving.

He shielded his eyes from the late afternoon sun until it dropped beneath the crest of the nearby mountains and then switched on the headlamps even though they were not yet needed.  Only occasionally did they see a turnoff, to the left or right, indicating a home or ranch in that direction.  As they slowly drove along in the deepening gloom, Maggie and the kids started up a children’s song, “B-I-N-G-O, Bingo was his name!”  The sound of their laughter and tiny voices brought back distant memories for Don.

What seemed like a lifetime ago, he had driven while Alyce had entertained his own young twins; Daniel and Elizabeth.  Don had been a junior officer in the Army then, and the family always took two or three week road trips with his pickup pulling a twenty-two foot travel trailer.  Alyce had a way with children, and the twins eagerly looked forward to their summer trips during school vacations until they reached their teenage years and developed a preference for spending their summers with other teenagers.  Don and Alyce had twice invited friends of the twins to accompany them in their summer travels, but Don felt uncomfortable disciplining other children and, without discipline, four teenagers become more of an unruly mob than a family vacation.  All too soon, the twins were grown and had moved away to start families of their own.  Then Alyce succumbed to cervical cancer and about the same time Don completed his twenty and retired from the Army, he found himself alone in life.

“Bang!”  The steering wheel jerked in Don’s hands and pulled the motor home across the road.  He slammed on the brakes and quickly brought it to a stop.  He turned and found Maggie, Doris, and Mikey staring at him, anxiously awaiting an explanation.

“Must have blown a tire,” he said, “plenty of sharp rocks on an unpaved road.  Wait here while I check.”

He put the motor home in Park and set the emergency brake before stepping out.  Sure enough, the front wheel on the driver’s side was flat and shredded.  Don was certainly glad he hadn’t been doing sixty on the Interstate when the tire blew, the results could have spelled disaster.  Resigning himself to spending at least an hour with a seldom used jack and grunting with cumbersome tools, Don stuck his head back inside the motor home.

“Okay, folks.  All out to enjoy the wonderous sights of The Painted Desert.  Concessions to your left, restrooms to your right.  Please stay on the marked paths and don’t feed the bears!”

“Bears!” Mikey and Doris shouted, their wide eyes expressing wonder as much as fright.

“Don is just teasing you, kids.  There are no bears around here,” she assured them.

“Of course not,” Don said, “but there might be coyotes or snakes.  Most likely, if there are, they’ll be more afraid of you than you are of them, but stay close to the motor home and don’t wander off.  I’ve got to change this tire and we’re stuck here until I do.”

The kids shouted their pleasure and quickly unbuckled, glad to be able to run outside and play.  Maggie went along to keep an eye on them and make sure they didn’t stray too far, while Don got down to the serious work.

He dismounted the spare from the carrier on the back, then opened the utility compartment and pulled out wheel chocks, lug wrench and six-ton hydraulic jack.  After chocking the wheels to make sure the motor home wouldn’t run off, he crawled far enough under to position the jack and raised it just enough to make sure it wouldn’t move, then he began loosening the eight lug nuts.

Normally Don had the tires rotated or repared at a garage and naturally they had last been mounted by someone using an air driven impact wrench.  Don struggled and strained until the first nut made a screeching sound and backed off half a turn.  He went to the next nut and repeated the process.  By the time he had all eight nuts “broken,” he needed to take a break and sat on the spare tire which lay next to his work area.  After a few deep breaths he began again, crawling under the motor home and raising the axel until the damaged tire was three inches above the ground.

Crawl out again, now begin removing all eight lug nuts and dismounting the tire.  Why had he paid Triple-A and Good Sam all those years, and where were they when a guy really needed them?

One nut down, seven to go.  Maggie sat down on the spare tire smoking a cigarette.  “What do you think happened, Don?”

“Search me, Maggie.  You were awake when it happened; I was drunk as a skunk.  Say, where are the kids?”

“Right there,” she said, pointing a few yards back in the direction from which they had come.  “I can see them well enough, but they can’t hear you.”

“How’s your arm?”

“I wish it belonged to someone else, but it’s not too bad.  I took another Darvon about fifteen minutes ago, I hope you don’t mind.”

“You’re the patient, Maggie.  Take all you need.  From the number of people we’ve seen so far, or the lack thereof, we should be able to find more supplies at the next drug store we find.”

“You mean we’re going back to Vegas, Don?”
            “I mean I’ll go back in a few days, as soon as we find a place where you and the kids will be safe.  We’ll have to find a car or a motor cycle, we can’t drive this rig all over
Nevada searching for survivors, it’s too wasteful of gas and I doubt if there are tanker trucks making regular trips to Vegas anymore.

“But I was wrong about getting away on our own where we could be safe.  I’m not the pioneer type, crossing the great prairie in a covered wagon, and I’m not sure I can take care of you and the kids if we set up a homestead some where.  We need a place to call home, but we need other people too.  We just have to be careful not to fall in with someone like that nut who took a shot at us earlier.”

“I still can’t believe that happened, Don.  Why would someone want to shoot at us?  Were they trying to kill us?”

“If I see him, I’ll ask, but I’d rather not meet anyone who shoots first and then asks questions.”

He dismounted the tire and let it fall to the ground.  “If you’ll excuse me, miss, I need that chair you’ve been resting on.”

“Oh, sorry, here I am gabbing and resting while you’re doing all the work,” she apologized.

“You better not let me catch you trying anything strenuous with that broken arm.  You just take it easy, as easy as you can, at least.”

Don mounted the spare and tightened all eight nuts finger tight, then snugged each one down with the lug wrench.  As soon as he had let the tire back on the ground, Maggie decided she needed to visit the power room again and excused herself.  By now it was quite dark and the children returned to see how soon Don would be finished with his labors.

“Just a few more minutes, honey,” he told Doris.  “Would you go around to the other side and bring me the flashlight from the glove compartment?  I’ll need it to make sure everything is tight here and put the flat tire back on the carrier and put these tools away.

“Sure, Don,” she said, eager to be helpful.

“What can I do, Don?” Mikey asked.

“When Doris returns with the flashlight, Mikey, you can help by holding it and pointing the light at the tire so I can see what I’m doing.  I’ll need both hands to handle this heavy lug wrench.”

Mikey seemed to be pleased with such an important job and snatched the flashlight away from Doris as soon as she returned.

“Don’t do that!” Doris shouted.

“Don told me to, smarty!  I’m his helper!”

“I did, Doris, but I didn’t think Mikey would grab it from you like that.”

“Well don’t be fighting over the damn thing,” a gruff voice called from the darkness.  “Just finish what you started and let’s get this show on the road.”

Startled, Mikey whirled and pointed the flashlight at a figure that had appeared on the road.  Don wasn’t pleased when he saw a scruffy man in need of a shave.  What displeased him most was the number stenciled above the breast pocket on the shirt he wore, the kind of shirt and trousers they issue to prison inmates.

“Do you want me to give you a hand?” the stranger asked.

“I could have used your help thirty minutes ago, but I’m nearly finished now.  What can we do for you?”

“We’d like a ride somewhere,” the man answered.  “It’s been mighty hot today, and we’ve walked a long way.”

“I’ll just bet you have,” Don said.  “The prison is over at Jeanne.  How far is that from here, twenty miles?  And who’s we?”

“Just me and this nine-millimeter!” another voice yelled, still invisible in the darkness.  “No keep that light off me and don’t try anything.  Where’s the woman… make her show herself!”

“I’m right here,” Maggie yelled.  Unseen and unheard, she had slipped out of the motor home, crossed the road, and moved far enough in the darkness to get behind the stranger who claimed to have a gun.  Don heard the meaty chunk-ker-chunk as Maggie worked the pump action shotgun and fed a round into the chamber.  “And I’m not alone either.  Would you like me to introduce you to Mr. Remington?”

“Not me, lady,” the man closest to Don shouted.  “Don’t shoot, I’m unarmed.”  He quickly stuck both hands in the air.  “We don’t mean no harm, we just want a ride out of this desert.”

“She ain’t gonna shoot, Max, she’s bluffing.  She wouldn’t dare to shoot when I can blow away these kids of hers.  Just drop the shotgun lady and nobody gets hurt.  I’m gonna count three and if you don’t drop it, your man gets the first bullet, then I’ll drop the kids.”

“Christ, Kenny!  Do like she says and drop the gun.  You can’t argue with a shotgun.  Are you stupid or something?”

“One!” Kenny shouted.  “I ain’t kidding lady.  I’m gonna drop this feller and then you’re next!  But I won’t shoot to kill you, no way.  I been in stir three years and I’m gonna save you for a little fun.  You’ll like it, honest!  Now put the shotgun down.”

Maggie kept her peace.

“Two!” he yelled.  “I’m not gonna give you another warning, your man gets it as soon as I count three.  Drop it now and I’ll spare your kids!  This is your last warning.  Three!”

There was a thundering bellow accompanied by a burst of flame when Maggie pulled the trigger of the shotgun.  Don half expected to feel the sledge-hammer impact of a bullet from the stranger’s pistol slam into him; instead he heard a crunching sound as the inmate crumpled into the sage brush.

Quickly Don grabbed the flashlight from Mikey and ran to where he heard the man fall.  He was dead, thank goodness, but Don grabbed the pistol from his lifeless hands and trained it at the other inmate.

“Are we gonna have trouble with you?” Don asked.

“No boss, no way.  I’ll be moving down the road now if that’s okay with you.”  He began backing away, anxious to put distance between himself and the guns pointed at him.

“Just hold it right there,” Maggie told him.  “Why should we let you go now, just to come back another time and try again to kill us?”

“I ain’t like Kenny.  I ain’t a killer.  Look, I just got in a little beef at one of the casinos.  I was down on my luck and I tried grab some money from some change girl.  The security was on me like stink on….” He remembered the children and changed his mind.  “Well, they caught me and the judge gave me two years for assault and strong-arm robbery.  I didn’t mean no harm, I got a family myself!  Or I used to have, at least.  Back in Indiana.  I swear I just want to get out of here.  I won’t bother you again, lady.”

“Don?  You’re the boss.  What do you say?”

“I don’t want him here, Maggie, but I don’t have the stomach for cold blooded murder.  I say let him go, but you’ve got the shotgun.”

“Tonight is your lucky night, Max.  Turn around and start running.  If you slow down before you hit the state line, I’m apt to be right behind you and I won’t miss.”

Max turned and broke into a run.  Quickly he disappeared into the darkness and Maggie appeared at Don’s side.  “You certainly weren’t kidding when you said you were no weeping TV actress, Maggie.”

“I’m sorry, Don, I had to shoot.  It was either him or you, I’m sure he would have done what he said.”

“I’m sure he would have also, Maggie.”  He took the heavy shotgun from her.  “Just how did you manage this thing with your broken arm?”

“It wasn’t easy, Don.  I pert near dropped it.  Finally I was able to bounce it up and down like Sigourney Weaver did in Alien, and then I could prop it up with my bum arm.  Still, I didn’t know if I’d have the courage to pull the trigger until he shouted three, and by that time I figured I didn’t have a choice.”

“No, you didn’t have a choice.  I think you made the right one.  Get the kids into the motor home and let’s get away from here.”

“Aren’t we going to bury him, Don?”

“Why?  Burying is too good for scum like that and I’m too tired.  Let the coyotes and vultures have him.  At least they keep the desert clean.”

Maggie put a hand on Mikey’s shoulder and steered him toward the motor home while Don took Doris by the hand.  Together they put the tragedy behind them, a tragedy they had not made, only finished, and set off down the road of survival once more.