After the Fall: Jason's Tale (6 page)

They worked on getting a neighbor’s old tractor, retired
many years earlier, back to life. Since it was pre-electronic, Sam thought they
could get it to run again. Sam’s tractor had died with the EMP burst. They
collected some diesel fuel and found a couple of batteries that weren’t
completely dead and wired them together. They removed and disassembled the
injectors, cleaned and carefully reassembled them. After putting everything
together they spent a painstaking hour priming the system and were rewarded
when the engine finally coughed to life. They whooped it up and slapped high
fives with each other like a couple of school boys.

Over the next week, Jason learned about plowing and disking
the soil; and how to plant the corn and wheat. According to Sam, all the cereal
grains could be done the same way. He stood in the field, inhaling the dark,
musky scent of the tilled earth. It was soft and black. It spoke of a mystery.
Put something in it, bury it and it will be returned a hundred-fold. Jason
marveled at it all, how roots lived a hidden, subterranean life, pulling in
nutrients from simple dirt and turning that into plant growth.

“It’s not simple dirt,” Sam said as Jason marveled out loud.
“This soil is rich in chemicals and nutrients that plants need. The wonder is
how the roots collect those nutrients so the plants can grow.”

“Planting seems like such an act of faith,” Jason said.

“It is in more ways than you can imagine. It’s not just the
wonder of plants emerging from seeds, but you have to have faith that the
proper amount of rain will come, the bugs won’t overwhelm the crops and you can
get the harvest in without rain ruining it. Rain helps at one part of the process
and then hurts at another part.”

Jason also helped Sam with the vegetable garden which they
planted by hand. They put in beans, onions, beets, carrots, kale and other
greens. Jason was stunned at what Sam and Judy had available to them by
carefully storing from each season’s harvest. His mouth watered in anticipation
of the bounty they would reap.

A warm glow kept coming over him as the days passed. Jason
wondered about the feeling; there was an elusive quality about it. It was
pleasant, but he couldn’t readily find a name for it. Then one day it hit him;
he was experiencing the joys of family; the warmth and bond between people who
cared for one another mixed with the shared efforts of working towards common
goals. It was a feeling he hadn’t experienced since his childhood. Jason basked
in the glow, soaking up its warmth and comfort.

This couple was self sufficient and thriving. Much of the
country needed to know what Sam and Judy knew. The country was going to have to
revert back to the family farm producing its excess for those in the cities.

Planting and other work went on for two weeks. Jason’s ribs
healed and his strength returned. One morning after breakfast, he asked Sam
about the possibility of staying on at the farm.

 “I could help you with all the chores and more than
make up for what I eat. I could also help in any defense of the farm…if that
became necessary.”

Sam looked at Jason. “Judy and I talked about you the last
two nights. You’ve been a good work partner and I think we’ve helped each
other, but I’m not sure we should add a third party to our home.”

Jason looked at him in surprise. He thought his idea was
perfect; at least it seemed so from his point of view. “Why? Don’t I add to the
farm? I work hard and I’ve got some useful skills.”

“Yes you do…”

“Don’t I fit in well with you and Judy?” He had been getting
very comfortable. “I’d really like to stay.”

Sam looked at the ground for a long moment, “Jason, you do
carry your weight. We work well right now, but this is short term. Judy and I
have been self sufficient since the last kid left five years ago and we like it
that way. You’re a good man,” he continued, “but this is not our style of
living. We felt called to help you…it’s our Christian duty. And you’ve help us
in return. But we’re not that upset at what has happened. Like I said, we’ve
lived alone for years. I’m glad we could help you but you need to find your own
place…or a place to make your own.”

“What about an extra man for defense?”

“We can take care of ourselves. We have so far. And I think
we’ll see even fewer people this year. We’re pretty far away from any big
towns.”

Jason sighed and nodded. “I guess I’ll get my gear together.
I’m feeling better and I probably should set out tomorrow.”

 “I don’t want to hurry you out.”

“It’s better to go now rather than later.” The dismay he
felt was sharpened by his remembered sense of loss of family.

Sam helped Jason get his harness fine tuned. The addition of
Judy’s strategic padding made the travois feel much more comfortable. Jason had
repaired the damage and felt confident it would work even better. Judy made him
take two of the wool blankets knowing that Jason would find the wool useful.
Sam also gave him one of the ponchos for the inevitable rainy days and nights.

The next morning, after an extra large breakfast and many
hugs, Jason got himself into his harness and pulled on his backpack. Judy
looked sad, as if she were seeing off one of her kids. Even Sam looked a little
sad, but Jason smiled at them.

“You were a Godsend. I’ll never forget you and your help.
I’m so glad you didn’t shoot me that rainy day when I showed up. I must have
looked pretty bad.”

“You did and I’m glad I didn’t,” Sam responded, grinning.
“We’ll always remember you, too. We wish you well in finding a place of your
own.”

“We’ll be praying for you,” Judy added.

Sam advised going north on the road for about a mile and he
would find an old two-track trail, just after a little creek, heading west into
the foothills. It was one of numerous old roads dating back to colonial times
that cut into the mountains. They were used to access the forest for its
timber, bark and minerals. These old two-track trails, often called bark roads,
hundreds of years old, provided relatively easy travel into the mountains. Up
on the ridge, which Sam expected Jason could reach by evening, he would find a
hunting trail going north.

With a smile and wave, Jason set off down the drive. He
hoped Sam and Judy would be all right. They had made it through the first
winter just fine. But as he walked down the road, he could not shake a nagging
worry about Sam’s dismissal of threats from outlaw gangs. He hoped Sam was
right.

Jason hiked up the bark road. His travois worked so much
better than before. The spring day was sunny and filled with promise. The trees
were beginning to bud. The air was clear, the birds were singing. He could hear
a Chickadee with its clear, three note whistle, and the staccato chirping of a
purple finch. In spite of his sadness at leaving, it was a day that held the
promise of new beginnings. This first day he stopped early to enjoy the weather
and savor some of the food Judy packed for him. It wouldn’t last long, so he
decided to eat it right away. He set up camp just off the road, below the
ridge. It had been a comfortable first day hiking and he was pleased that he
and the harness were getting along better.

Shouldn’t feel sad,
he told himself, reflecting on
Sam and Judy’s decision, just grateful that he found them when he did. They
allowed him a respite from his plunge into the deep end of wilderness living.
They provided him a place and the time to heal and recover from being
overwhelmed. Jason now felt much more ready for his odyssey. He was hardened
and chastened from his initial experience and had learned some lessons about
finding the rhythm of the forest.

He turned his thoughts from Sam and Judy to his own plans.
It was still to find country that was remote and had game, and then find some
shelter where he could establish a living situation that was a step up from
camping. Long term camping was not a viable option. It would break his body
down, especially through the winter. He would look to find or create more
substantial shelter. He sensed he was getting closer to his goal. He could feel
it as he went to sleep under his lean-to.

The next morning Jason lingered around his camp after
breakfasting on Judy’s biscuits, a hard-boiled egg and some herb tea. Judy had
insisted on giving him some eggs, biscuits, canned meat and mint tea, and Jason
wanted to enjoy them. Suddenly he heard what sounded like shots in the
distance, down in the valley from where he had come. He stood and listened
carefully; there were more sounds, definitely shots being fired.

He doused his campfire, grabbed his binoculars, and ran back
down the two-track to a switchback where there was a break in the trees. The
house was obscured but he could see two old pickup trucks in the front area. It
was clear the gunfire was coming from the house.

Jason ran back to his camp, unstrapped his rifle, put a
magazine in it, put three extra loaded magazines in his pocket, strapped on his
pistol holster and set out on a run down the road, hoping he would not be too
late. He ran until his lungs gave out, walked until he recovered, and started
running again. At the bottom of the slope, he cut through some fields using a
swath of woods to shield him from the house. The gunfire ended and before he
reached the house he heard the trucks leaving.

At the edge of the woods, Jason stopped and scanned the
house; no sign of anyone. With great caution, he approached the rear corner and
tried the back door. It was locked. He went around to the front. The windows
were shot out and the door was broken and hanging open. Crouching, with his
rifle at ready he slowly entered the house.

He listened. There was no sound from inside. The furniture
was knocked about and overturned. Creeping further into the house, he found
Sam’s body in the hallway on the way to the kitchen. He had been shot multiple
times. Blood was spattered everywhere. A pool of blood seeped out from under
his body. Jason grimaced as his stomach heaved. It had been some years since he
had seen a dead body, especially a friend. Tears welled up in his eyes. He
brushed them away and ventured further into the house looking for Judy. The
kitchen was ransacked, the table was overturned. Cabinets were torn open and
emptied. He found a part of Judy’s dress torn and lying on the floor but he
could not find her.

They’ve taken her, she’s alive!
Then his face clouded
as he thought about how they might treat her. The pantry was emptied. The
basement where Judy kept the canned food had been discovered and stripped. The
liquor cabinet, Sam’s pride, was empty. Jason could not find any other sign of
Judy in the house. He took a sheet from the bedroom and covered Sam.

I’ll find her, Sam. I’ll get her back and make them pay
for…this.
He couldn’t find a word to describe it.

He had to try to catch up to them. How far had they gone?
His mind was filled with grim thoughts of what was coming. He went to the well
in the yard and pumped cold water over his head, took a long drink and
shouldered his rifle. Then he set off at a trot on the road going south.

Jason ran for about an hour when he saw smoke ahead. He
veered off the road and worked his way through the fields and hedge rows,
moving more carefully as he got closer. Finally he stopped and lay down at the
edge of an overgrown field. He was about 60 yards from the encampment, located
in the yard of a partially burned farmhouse. Tents were spread around the yard.
Some pickups and jeeps were parked in the grass, interspersed with a few
motorcycles; all were older models that the gang had gotten running. The farm
house still stood. The roof was intact. People—mostly men—were moving in and
out of the house. Fires were being set in the yard and food being cooked. On
the porch were some of the spoils from Sam and Judy’s house. From the looks of
it, the group was getting ready to party and feast, enjoying what they had
stolen from Sam and Judy.

Evening approached and Jason lay in his hide.
Got to wait
till dark.
He had not located Judy. He hoped she was not in the house
because he couldn’t see how he could get her out with either of them surviving.

The drinking started. The sounds grew louder as more alcohol
was consumed. Soon the scene became raucous and violent. Drunken scuffles broke
out amongst the men. Jason heard the females scream as the men manhandled them.
The screams and squeals became a background to the overall din of the
encampment. Through his glasses, Jason finally located a tent at the edge of
the yard with men steadily going in and out. The din continued well into the
evening until around midnight when it started to gradually quiet down.

Over the next two hours, Jason slowly crawled through the
high grass in the field. The dark hid his matted trail. He went carefully, not
wanting to make his move until the group drank itself to sleep. He aimed for
the tent where he had seen men going in and out, hoping Judy might be there and
hoping at the same time that she wasn’t. The reality, he guessed, was probably
much worse. Even at 50, Judy was not an unattractive woman, and who knew what
code of conduct ruled this group? The violence he had seen in the Miller’s
house was the equal of what he had read about in medieval times; even the equal
of the barbarians who brought down the Roman Empire. They thought cruelty and
violence towards the enemy was a virtue.

Jason reached the tent and listened for some time. The only
sound he heard was a low moaning and whimpering. Very slowly he cut a small
opening in the back of the tent. He put his eye to the small slit and tried to
see inside. In the tent’s darkness he could make out one small figure on one
side, Judy? There was another, larger figure lying on the other side. Slowly
Jason started to slice the tent open. His heart was racing and his breathing
became ragged. He stopped to calm his breathing lest it became too loud.

Be calm. Breathe steady.

He repeated this mantra over and over in his mind. When the
figures in the tent did not move, he steadied himself and finished cutting the
tent open. Then he slowly worked his way through the opening. As he was pulling
himself through, the sleeping figure groggily mumbled something, hearing the
brush of clothing and struggling to wake up. Without hesitation, Jason thrust
his body over the man covering his mouth with one hand and with the other,
shoved his knife into the man’s neck. He jerked and flopped instinctively
trying to get away from the attack. Jason worked the knife back and forth,
slashing and cutting the life out of him. After a short struggle there was a
gurgling sound and he went limp. Jason held on for a few seconds more and then
pulled back; the man was dead. He turned quickly to other figure,

“Judy, is that you?” he whispered.

“Please, no,” came her weak reply.

“It’s me, Jason,” he said as he went over to her, listening
for sounds outside of the tent. All was quiet. Judy had a blanket thrown over
her; under it she was naked and bound.

“Jason” she whispered, “it’s you?”

“Don’t talk. I’m getting you out of here.” He whispered.

“They raped me. I hurt…I’m hurt…inside.”

“Shhh. I’ll get you out.”

He cut her bonds. He could feel the cuts and bruising on her
wrists and ankles from the ropes. He found a shirt and put it over her. Taking
the blanket, he helped Judy crawl through the opening in the tent. Outside,
Jason had Judy lie on the blanket which he dragged behind him as he crawled
back along his path. This time he went faster and with less caution, taking a
chance that everyone was asleep.

On reaching the tree line, Jason wrapped Judy in the blanket
and picked her up in his arms.

“Hold on, it will be a bumpy trip. I’ve got to get us away
from here as fast as possible.”

“Don’t let them catch us. They hurt me,” Judy said again.
“Over and over, they wouldn’t stop.”

Then she started moaning. Jason gritted his teeth against
her sounds of pain and set out. It was hard going, in spite of Judy’s not being
very big. Jason drove himself on and on, stopping only to adjust how he carried
her; in his arms, piggy back style and over his shoulders. But always he kept
moving, whether a walk, a shuffle or a slow jog, he would not stop.

Two hours later they arrived at the farm house. He gently
laid Judy down in the yard and went into the barn to retrieve a two wheeled
cart he had seen. Next he ran into the house and collected pillows and
blankets. He made a padded bed in the cart and set Judy in it. Jason knew she
had been bleeding during the past two hours while he carried her. He laid her
in the cart and put a pillow between her legs. He told her to push it up tight
to stem the bleeding. Judy was so weak that Jason had to help. Apologizing for
the bumpiness, he told her he was going to take her to his camp where the gang
would not be able to find them.

“I’ll keep you safe, Judy. They won’t hurt you again.”

“Sam?” she asked. “They shot him over and over. They laughed
and shot him, again and again.” Then she collapsed in the cart and Jason set
out, now running, towing the cart behind him. He left muddy footprints on the
road, but he didn’t care.

I hope they come after me,
he thought, grimly. His
mind was growing darker as he ran on, hearing Judy’s moaning in the cart,
getting weaker and weaker.

He turned up the bark road, running, shuffling, stumbling,
not stopping. As the grade got steeper, his legs got heavier, but he kept
going. It was like the worst army training run he had ever experienced. His
lungs were on fire, his breath came in ragged gasps and still he went on, even
at a shuffle. He couldn’t stop until he got to his camp and tended to Judy. Her
soft cries drove him on and on. At last he arrived. His camp was on top of the
steep bank that had been created when a flat area or ‘bench’ was cut into the
hillside to make the narrow shelf for the road bed.

Jason laid Judy gently down on the blankets from the cart.
As he lifted her, he felt how wet the pillow was from her blood. He wrapped
Judy in the extra blankets she had given him the day before. Their worlds had
disintegrated since that bittersweet goodbye. He roused Judy enough to get her
to drink some water.

“Don’t let me go,” she said. “Hold me.” He took her in his
arms, wrapped tight in the blankets. “They hurt me deep inside,” she mumbled.
“I’m hurt bad.”

“You’ll be all right. I’ll take care of you”.

“I’m cold,” she said softly. She was shivering. Jason pulled
his extra parka out of his pack with one hand and draped it over her while he
kept her tight in his arms. Gently he rocked back and forth. The shivering
decreased and she seemed to relax more.

“Don’t leave me up here in the hills…for the animals.” He
could barely hear her voice.

“I won’t leave you, you’ll be okay, you’re going to be
okay,” he said, he hoped, with conviction. “I’ll take care of you.”

“Sam…Sam,” she said. “Why did they have to keep shooting
Sam?” Jason just kept rocking her gently. Judy slipped into unconsciousness. He
kept holding her and rocking her for the next two hours as her life slowly
slipped away.