Barren Waters - The Complete Novel: (A Post-Apocalyptic Tale of Survival) (31 page)

Jeremy flinch. Was that what she thought of him? He stared at her in astonishment and she met his unwavering gaze. She did! She actually thought he had all the answers. The revelation was as humbling as it was frightening and he had to fight not to smirk. She had just let her teenage mask slip. Just a little perhaps, but it was enough. In a roundabout way she’d just admitted dependency. She trusted him—thought he actually knew what he was doing. Oh, how he hated to rain on
that
parade.

“I don’t think we’re going to find a magic well out here Sam. I think you’ve been reading too much Harry Potter.”

“So what do we do?” This from Seth who had slid closer to her side.

Jeremy popped a rice ball into his mouth and tried to make light of a crappy situation.

“I think it’s time we start rationing.”

Their faces were aghast. He raised his hands in supplication.

“Just a little I mean. But that’s not all we can do. I further propose that we travel only at night. I don’t know about you guys, but this sun is killing me.” He lifted his hand to his face, mockingly laid a palm across his cheek. “And it’s murder to my perfect complexion.”

Sam didn’t smile. “Makes sense,” she said, “But even the nights are hot, Dad. We’re still gonna have to drink.”

He sighed. “I know. And I think what worries me the most is the fact that we may have to slow our progress to search for sources of water.”

She lifted the corner of her shirt and displayed her meter. “Can’t. Forty-three percent. We’re running out of time.” She turned her eyes away from him and scoffed. “Although you still haven’t told me what lies at the end of this safari of yours. I suppose there are mountains of disks in San Diego?”

Jeremy caught her gaze and held it. “Umm. Yeah. That’s kind of the idea.”

Though she didn’t press him further, she straightened, and hope glittered in her eyes. “Really? Okay. Then I say we follow your plan. We sleep during the day and travel at night. That’s the basic premise right? Doesn’t sound too complicated.”

He spread his hands. “That’s all I’ve got unless anyone’s got a better idea. But it won’t be easy. The act of sleeping during the day, while basic in principal, is actually a very tough thing to do. I know from experience. Sam, your grandfather and I used to conduct our explorations at night, and it was difficult to say the least. The human body doesn’t want to sleep during the day. We’re gonna be tired and trying to push ourselves with bodies that would rather rest.”

Seth sat on his ankles. “But we’re only just a couple weeks away from San Diego. Can’t we all just suck it up?”

Jeremy suppressed a smile. “Suck it up?”

“Yeah. I mean we’ve made it this far. Let’s just suck it up and get there already. If we need to pedal when we’re tired then we just do it. Who cares?”

In that moment Jeremy didn’t think he could have loved the boy any more if he tried. He let his smile stretch across his face. “Okay. Then why don’t we begin right now.”

Sam frowned. “But we just got here and we’ve been riding all day. You want us to ride all night?”

Jeremy shook his head. “Nope. But we need to begin to shift our circadian rhythms, and that means we need to force ourselves to stay up all night so we can sleep all day tomorrow.”

Seth groaned and lowered his head to the floor. “Okay,” he muttered. “Then how do we do that because I already want to sleep.”

Like a rip plum Sam plucked the idea from Jeremy’s head. “By staying active.” She shrugged. “If we’re short water, then tonight we go foraging for water.”

And so they did. They finished their meal and stretched their tired muscles, fought their natural instincts to drop their heads to their pillows. Instead they laced their boots and stepped out into the night. It was as good a plan as any, Jeremy told himself. At the very least it was a change of pace.

The night air was crisper than it was in the day, and though they were tired, they tried to make a good time of it. They walked and talked of water and of fish. They explored all manner of homes. To them, the world seemed full of tiny treasures, and they, a small band of pirates set out to discover them. They were cautious in their exploration, though not overly so. Jeremy didn’t think there would be many Arizonian natives who’d chosen to stay behind and hunker down in the middle of the desert. This place was nothing but an afterthought now, a stopover at best, a land that had been given back to the animals and insects that were able to suffer its punishing elements.

With the encroaching dawn they returned to the house and blacked out the windows with thick curtains they’d pilfered from various homes. They made up their pallets on the living room floor and struggled to find sleep. For all their efforts, they’d returned with six bottles of water and a small packet of stale animal crackers. Seth had jettisoned his faded navy T-shirt for a lighter yellow one, and Sam had found a pair of boots that didn’t pinch her toes.

In the desert, Jeremy soon discovered that day was just as quiet as night, yet sleep continued to elude him. He tried to match the rhythm of Seth’s deep breathing, but again and again his eye snagged on a bright slice of sun that peeked through a gap in the curtains. Shifting quietly he stared at the blades of the ceiling fan above. Dust had gathered along their planks and like the elegant lace hemming of a dress, an impressive web connected each to the next. He focused on the gossamer threading, hypnotized as it quivered with the movements of the air. Was it air that had seeped from a crack in the house or was it movement caused by their collective breath?

Breath from their lungs would eventually find those blades would it not? Molecules shifted by the movements of their bodies would crash into other molecules and eventually move that fine webbing. It was part of a larger theorem. What was it called? It was something from the curriculum of Liam Colt. Jeremy remembered it well. It was chaos theory—the theory of the butterfly effect, the supposition that even the smallest of changes had far-reaching effects on future consequences. So what effect were they causing now? What decisions had he made to alter their course? What seemingly insignificant breath had he exhaled? What word had he uttered that would irrevocably change their futures?

It was at once a comforting and debilitating thought, and he pondered it as his eyes drooped and sleep finally claimed him. His dreams were psychedelic and bright, a strange stream of consciousness born of extreme exhaustion. In them he was a sailor on a ship surrounded by dangerous crests of black waves. The sun would pierce the clouds and glitter across the water. He’d stumble about the decking, lift bottle after bottle of water to his parched lips and taste nothing but the brine and the salt of the sea. In them he was a hawk flying high over the mountains, searching for dots of prey below and finding none. In them he was a furry spider burrowing beneath the cool sand of a night sky, boiled and singed with the rays of the rising sun. In them he was surrounded by black clouds, choking and sputtering and fighting for air.

He shot up in his bed, pushed himself to his feet and spun around. Sam was already awake.

“What?” she asked. “Something’s wrong.”

Beside her Seth rubbed his eyes, raised his face, and squinted into the dark room. “What is it?”

“Get your things,” Jeremy whispered. “We have to go. Now. I smell smoke.”

“You must do the thing you think you cannot do.”

– Eleanor Roosevelt

“I don’t see any fire,” Sam said as she raised her hand to her nose. She whirled around and stared into the bright sun. “I smell it but I don’t see it. So where’s all the smoke coming from?”

Jeremy pointed. “It’s coming from the south. We have to get out of here. Now.”

“But how do you know where it’s coming from?” Seth complained. “And if we can’t see it then why are we so worried about it?”

“Because it moves fast. And it’s probably following the path of the wind. We need to get around it before it traps us on this side of Arizona.”

Seth rubbed his eyes. “I’m tired. We haven’t slept in two days.”

“I know guys. I know. We’ll start our plan tomorrow night. Suck it up, right? That’s what you said. Come on, we’ve gotta move. We have to get past this thing or it may end up blocking our path.”

They slung their packs on their backs and started pedaling back toward I-20. Outside the house, the smoke was thick. Much thicker than Jeremy had expected.

“How can a fire start all the way out here?” Seth called out over his shoulder. “Who started it?”

“Not who. What. It was probably lightening that started it. And since there’s no fireman anymore, there’s no one around to put out the blaze. This thing will rage until it burns itself out or runs out of fuel.”

Sam skidded on a patch of sand. “What fuel? What’s out there in the desert other than sand?”

Jeremy pulled in front and blinked against the sooty air. “
What
fuel
? Remember all those grasses and dried roots we found everywhere? That’s all the fuel it needs. It’s a forest fire.”

Seth didn’t buy it. “But there’s no forest.”

“Forest fire, wildfire fire, brush fire. Whatever. It’s a fire. And it’s big. Let’s go.”

They pulled onto the main freeway and Jeremy felt a scratching in his throat. He could only see about five miles in front of them. From there, I-20 curved north around Doz Cabezas Mountains, and even from this distance Jeremy could see clouds of smoke billowing into the air. He heard Sam cough behind his back.

“Pedal faster guys. I think it’s just behind that mountain.”

“Dad,” Sam choked. “If it’s just behind that mountain, then why are we going there? We’re headed straight for it.”

Instead of answering, he leaned his weight on the pedals. From the map in his pack, he knew the elevation in Bowie was about 3,000 feet. His legs felt the strain and he tried to ignore it. They were heading straight for the fire because there was no other direction for them to go.

On and on they flew and the closer they got, the thicker the air became. It was a swirling gray fog that began to eclipse the sun. It shrouded them in soot and made it increasingly harder to breath. But the soot and ash were the parts they could see and smell. It was the parts they couldn’t see—the roaring in the distance—that frightened them more.

“Stop,” Jeremy gasped. He pulled his bike to a sliding stop and leaned over the handlebars in exhaustion. “Guys,” he yelled. “Stop. I can’t breath.”

Above the roar of the distant flames, the children stopped and heaved. Jeremy kicked down his stand and pulled a bottle of water from his pack. He stripped off his shirt and ripped it into shreds.

“Dad?” Sam asked as she watched him open one of their precious bottles. “Stop. We can’t use that. What are you doing?”

He poured the water on the pieces of cloth, handed them out, and tied one around his face. “Like this,” he pointed out, voice muffled. “Tie it around your nose and mouth like I am.”

“But Dad, we need that water to drink.”

He lifted the cloth from his face to speak. “Sam, once we get around these mountains the air’s gonna be really bad. I know we need the water to drink, but we need to breath just as much. Now do as I say and tie that around your head.”

“I’m scared,” Seth said.

Jeremy squinted through the stinging in his eyes. “Me too, Merlin. I’m scared too. But we have to go on.”

He turned from Sam and Seth, bent to retrieve his pack and settled it on his shoulders. If he waited much longer he was certain he’d lose his courage altogether. Instead he surged forward, pedaled toward heat and smoke, and prayed they’d find a path through the inferno.

With the curve of the mountain just ahead, Jeremy swerved and shielded his eyes from the searing heat. Even from this distance he could see a massive plume of black smoke. He only hoped the flames were contained on the left side. He couldn’t allow this thing to trap them in Arizona. They didn’t have time to wait it out. Nor did he know of any other way to get to San Diego. They’d taken this road so far—too far. To change course now, they’d have to double back a hundred miles or more. His gut clenched at the thought. He’d taken so many risks on this journey. What would it all be worth if they couldn’t cross the final state line?

Just as his handlebars were beginning to sting his hands from the ambient heat, he rounded the corner and confronted the blaze. It surged up the sides of the mountain, smoke blocking his line if sight in every direction. To his dismay, it hadn’t stopped at the left side. Embers had jumped the highway, caught, and exploded on the right. Above the roar he heard Sam scream. She caught up with him and yelled from his right.

“Dad, we’re headed right for it.” Leaning over, she coughed and swerved. “Why, Dad? Why are you doing this? We’ll never get through.”

He slapped at chunks of debris and swirling pieces of kindled brush that feathered into his hair. “Sam,” he gasped. “We can’t let it stand between us. We don’t have time to find another way to San Diego. Sam, there
is
no way. Not for us. God knows how many miles it would cost us.” He pointed to an ember that was burning a hole through her shirt and growled. “Ride,” he screamed as she slapped at it. “Faster. We have to get through.”

The three of them sped beneath a roaring dragon, its breath exploding in a torrent of orange flames. With a whoosh Jeremy heard the sounds of nearby Joshua trees bursting into flames. A canopy of glittering sparks rained down on them from above. He could barely see twenty feet in front of him and began to worry more about the quality of the air than the heat from the flames. Peering over his shoulder he caught sight of Sam’s front tire. But where was Seth? Reflexively he slowed his pace, waited for the boy to catch up then panicked when he saw embers igniting a patch of his hair.

Jeremy screeched to a stop and pulled a bottle of water from his pack. Seth’s screams were barely audible above the roaring of the flames as Jeremy doused his head. Leaning close to his face he peered into his eyes and shouted.

“Seth, move! Go!”

He reached over and pushed the back of Seth’s bike. The sound of the fire was deafening. The smoke had blotted out the sun so completely that it seemed like they were on a different planet. Walls of flames rose high on both sides and Jeremy suddenly worried for the integrity of their rubber tires.

Ahead a sudden explosion threw debris into the air. A stalled car, Jeremy realized with dismay. There must have been remnants of oil or gas still left in the tank. Sam and Seth were leaning over their handlebars and pedaling as fast as they could.

We’re in hell
, Jeremy thought. This must be what hell is like. Can we never catch a break?

The air was becoming nearly too hot to breath and Jeremy began to pant beneath the wet shirt. This was it. They were dead. They’d been in this thing far too long. Wildly he slapped at cinders that flew around his head. His fingers began to burn against the handlebars.
Susan
, he thought.
Please Susan. Can you help us? We’re so damn close. How far can this thing go on?

As if in answer, he lifted his head and spotted a patch of sun through the black smoke. He put on a burst of speed, heard a pop, and knew his tire had blown out.

“Sam!” he called out. “Look. We’re almost through!”

His bicycle seemed to hobble on a broken leg as he pushed it from a roaring inferno into a clear blue sky. He took them nearly a half-mile from the blaze before he let his bike fall beneath him. He rolled onto the pavement then leapt to his feet and ran to the children.

Seth was suffering from a fit of dry heaves and Sam was practically coughing a lung onto the street. But they were alive. Thank God. They were alive.

“Dad,” Sam choked. “Your pants!”

Smoke was curling from the cuff of his left pant leg. He slapped it, patted it, then moved to inspect a red spot on her arm. He pushed back her sleeve and winced. Second-degree burn. Not third-degree but definitely past the first few layers of skin.

“Does it hurt?” he asked as he turned her body around in circles.

“No more than this one,” she grumbled and pointed a swollen area at the side of her neck. With a shake of her head she pointed at Seth. “Never mind me. Check him.”

He moved for the boy, but Seth held up a hand. “I’m okay.”

Several more moments he coughed into his fist then the three of them stood and turned to look at the destruction they’d somehow made a path through. The breadth of the fire was astounding. It consumed the brush and grasses like a rogue shark feeding in a school of salmon. It must have started in the south, Jeremy figured, but crawled steadily north as it swept across the east.

“Wow,” Seth breathed, and touched a finger to a patch of tender scalp. “Think it’ll just go on forever? Maybe it’ll keep burning till it burns everything up.”

Jeremy rubbed the soot from his pants. “No. Not forever. But a very long time for sure.” He walked over to his bike and crouched to examine the split tire. The places where the rubber had melted had cooled in lumps.

“Use your sombrero,” Seth pointed out smugly. “Told you it was a good idea.”

Jeremy sat down hard on the pavement and laughed from his belly. “My sombrero. Right. Thank God for my sombrero.” He swung the tire necklace from his back and began to remove the melted tire from the clamps. “So how was that for sucking it up, Seth?”

The boy’s smile was stark white against ash and grime. “Not bad I guess. But I’m done sucking it up for the day. Now can we please find a place to sleep?”

Sam stretched out across the pavement. “I’m not sleeping till we’re at least another ten miles away from that thing.”

“Agreed,” Jeremy said. “And I wouldn’t mind a bath either. I stink.”

Sam raised herself on an elbow. “Speaking of a bath, can I get a sip of water?”

With a final flick of his wrist, Jeremy fit the new tire to the frame. He pulled his backpack closer to his feet, and with belly clenched, peered inside. If they were running low on water before, they were getting close to desperate now. He raised his face to the sky. The sun had lowered. It must be closer to two or three in the afternoon. He’d take them as far as the next town; find a place to sleep and hopefully a good place to forage. He’d let them have the water, wouldn’t tell them how much he’d spilled over their shirts.

Putting on a plastic smile he handed her one of their last few bottles.

“Drink up. We’ve almost reached the California border. So how about I do all the ‘sucking it up’ from here.”