Seven Days To Brooklyn: A Sara Robinson Adventure (7 page)

“I was a dentist, and one of the best around.”
 

“Good to know; if I ever need my teeth cleaned, I will give you a call.”
 

Sara looks back to the heap that is starting to move and making a few short groans. “Looks like our new friend is coming around.”

Mac kneels down next to the young lady and props her head up. Even in the moonlight, she is obviously Latino. Her long, black hair is matted but still falls beautifully down around her shoulders. She appears to be no older than twenty-two or twenty-three. Her body is fit and lean, either from lack of food in the wasteland or because she, like everyone else, is on the run, constantly fending off thugs, infected souls, or wild animals.
 

Mac stares into her beautiful, brown eyes, more like pools of caramel coffee colored wonder. She blinks a few times with eyelashes that seem to go on forever.

“Are you okay?”
 
he ask’s “Can you stand up?”
 

She looks at him and slowly starts to stand up with his help. “Who are you?”
 

“I’m Mac,” he says, still holding her hand in his. “And this is my, uh, friend, Sara.”

Sara looks over at the two of them and just nods her head. A quick, hey how you doing; don’t mess with me.
 

“What’s your name?” Mac asks while still holding her hand.

She withdraws her hand and starts rubbing it with her other one. Bringing both of her hands up to her head, she simultaneously draws them through her hair, pulling her hair back into a ponytail, and twists a tie into the hair to hold it in place. Looking up at Mac and then over to Sara, she decides it is okay to let her guard down. Maybe even be a bit friendly. Besides, they did just save her life, or at least from what she could see from where she was down the street from the action, the young girl saved her life.
 

“Ava.” She reaches her hand out to shake Mac’s.
 

He reciprocates and gives her a firm shake. “Nice to meet you, Ava.”
 

Sara looks over at the two again and can immediately tell there is more than just formal pleasantries going on. Even at twelve years old, she picks up on the flirtatious attitudes and unspoken gestures going on between the two of them.

Ava walks over to Sara and extends her hand. “Thanks a lot. I can’t begin to thank you enough,” she says while holding her hand out. Sara looks at it before turning around to walk down the road.
 

“Great, another one to take care of.” Sara mumbles it loud enough for Mac to hear as she turns away from Ava and pulls her iPod out of her pocket, inserting the earbuds into her ears.

“What’s her problem?” Ava ask’s.

“Not quite sure, but if I had to guess, it would have to do with the fact that she has not been around people for a while. Or she is just that hostile. Lastly, I think she is going through puberty.”
 

Sara is immune to the conversation going on behind her and is quickly lulled off to better times as she adjusts the volume up on the iPod. The sounds of island tunes fill her head. Reggae is one of her favorite genres to listen to although she is really partial to the hard, ax-grinding heavy metal tunes made famous by the band Megadeth, who were rock legends during the late part of the twentieth century. She hums along as the three of them walk down the street to a traffic circle. The traffic circle is decorated with a once magnificent and beautiful round fountain complete with multiple cherub statues in the center, arms outstretched to the heavens. The center statue is missing its left arm, broken off and lying in the bottom of the stagnant pool. Sara walks up to the pool and removes a canteen to refill it in the water. Removing the cap from the canteen, she dips it under the surface of the water and watches the water slip inside. Mac stoops down to take a handful of water up into his hands to get a drink, when Sara stops him.

“Don’t drink that; it’s contaminated.” She points over to a dead dog floating in the water on the other side of the pool. Dropping two iodide tablets into the canteen, she replaces the cap and starts walking around to the other side of the fountain. Looking down the street ahead, she can see they have come to a crossroad. One street sign points left: Hwy 1,888 Luckenbach 28 Miles. The other says Johnson City 14 Miles.
 

Turning around to look at the fountain, Sara reads the words that are carved into a wooden sign. “Welcome to Blanco.” She mouths the words to herself as she mentally prepares for the long walk ahead of her. Before she steps off the grassy fountain area, she feels the hand of their new companion on her shoulder.
 

“What the—” She throws Ava’s hand off her shoulder. Hitting pause on her iPod, she catches Ava mid-sentence.
 

“—that way and not north? Where are you headed?”

Sara points.
 

“That way goes to Fort Worth and Dallas. Highly contaminated. Infection rates were near ninety-eight percent up there, and it probably has a bit of a radiation problem.” She says, adding in the next statement. “This way to Luckenbach; anyone who is somebody goes to Luckenbach.”
 

“What’s in Luckenbach?” Ava asks.
 

“Really? You know,
Waylon, Willie, and the boys
? Luckenbach, where everybody’s somebody!” Sara snaps back at her. “I made it this close; I’m going to Luckenbach.”
 

Ava looks at her as Sara puts the earbuds back into her ears.
 

“Better not argue with her. Let’s just go along with it and see where it leads. Besides, she has skills, skills that I don’t have. Unless you are an ex-assassin or ex-military, I’d suggest following quietly. Where are you from?”
 

Mac lifts his right eyebrow as he looks over into Ava’s eyes.
 

“San Antonio. You?”
 

“Well, before this shit-storm started, I was living in Luling. That’s out on Interstate Ten, near Gonzales.”
 

“Yes, I know where it is,” Ava smirks.
 

Sara is off in another world as she scrolls through the thousands of songs and artists, flipping from one to another until she finds a ’40s-era singer. Clicking play, the crooner starts a classic tune, one of her favorites. “Who was that lady, that fabulous lady?” She hums along as the duo behind her chat away about their common interests, jobs, past loves. Hours later, the trio continues to click off the miles down the winding two-lane country road as the predawn sun begins to turn the eastern sky lighter shades of dark blue, before a hint of orange is added to the skyline. Oak trees that are devoid of leaves blanket the countryside with charred bark from a recent fire that swept the hillsides. The day quickly starts with a blazing sun rising in the east while Sara continues setting the pace. She knows that her average mileage while walking is around four miles per hour, and at this rate, she is sure they will make it to Luckenbach by sundown.
 

Noon comes and passes, and the tunes keep coming through her earbud speakers. Looking down, she notices the battery bar is down to the last few minutes before shutting down. Without losing pace, she reaches into her pack and pulls out a wire, plugging it into the iPod. She then pulls a flap off the top of the backpack to reveal a sewn-in, miniature solar panel. Turning around to Mac and Ava, she barks out a gruff order.

“Let’s go, people. We got to pick up the pace. I think we are only two or three miles away.” Sara turns back around, walking faster.
 

“Yes, pushy.” Ava grabs Mac’s shoulder with both hands, more of a lean in and get chummy grab. He is not averse to her embrace and accepts the comfort of his new friend.
 

“No, she is not a woman of many words, but as I said, she has skills that I just don’t have.”
 

Switching songs, Sara spins up some heavy metal to raise her heartbeat. Looking down the road, she sees the sign pointing left: Luckenbach. No mileage is listed, and she is sure they are only minutes out from shade, maybe even some food. Running off ahead of the other two, Sara makes the turn-off and is quickly out of their sight.
 

“Damn, she is quick. Let’s go; I’m not letting her out of my sight for long,” Mac yells over to Ava as they both begin to run after Sara. They quickly catch up to Sara, who has stopped in the middle of the road and is looking for a way to get around the triple strand, razor-sharp concertina wire that is pulled out in front of her. Looking to her left and right, she can see that the wire goes all the way around the town. Not to be shut out of her destination, Sara walks downhill to the small stream that is just a trickle. Jumping down the bank, she is followed by Ava and Mac. The razor wire is strung across the stream and is high enough to provide a gap to climb under to gain access to the other side. Sara kneels down into the cool water and crawls on her hands and knees through the stream and under the razor wire. Standing up on the other side of the bank, she motions for the other two to cross. Mac and Ava quickly scramble through the water and meet up with her on the other side. Sara looks at them and then turns to look at the town of Luckenbach off in the distance. “It looks deserted; wait here. I’m going to check it out.” Sara just finishes her sentence and jumps up to run up the hill, when she notices a small group of people walking around one of the outbuildings. She stops, drops the pack off her back, and starts assembling the .308 sniper rifle, attaching the scope and magazine in record time. From a kneeling position, she scans through the scope and can see eye to eye with what looks like a ragtag band of elderly (at least to her) men and a few women. All of them look like they are in their late sixties or even early seventies. A few of them are holding shotguns and hunting rifles; the rest have a menagerie of farm tools for weapons. Sara stands up, slings the weapon across her chest, and starts to walk up the hill toward the group.
 

“Hey, wait,” Mac yells to her. “They look like they mean business.”
 

“Nope, we’re good; come on.”
 

Sara makes it to the top of the hill before Ava and Mac and is shaking hands with one of the elderly gentlemen while another one of the guys is patting her on the back.
 

Mac is thoroughly confused by this time as he turns to Ava. “What is it with that girl? She has no fear. Charms the locals, and now, this.”
 

“You’ve known her longer than I have; you tell me.”
 

They both continue up the hill and introduce themselves to what they think is the leader. He brushes his hand through his long beard and then extends his hand to Mac.
 

“I’m Billy; that’s Dusty and Frank over there.” Billy looks over at the other two guys standing closest to him. One of them has an equally impressive beard that is chest length. The last gentleman, holding the double barrel shotgun, is clean-shaven except for a bushy
 
mustache.
 

“So, Sara, has been a while. What brings you up here?” Billy takes his arm and puts it around her shoulder as they turn and walk to an open doorway into a barn structure. A sign over the open doorway reads Dance Hall NO Smoking Inside.
 

Sara looks up into the eyes of this stranger, or so it would seem to Ava and Mac. Her voice starts to quiver when she talks, but she regains composure.
 

“I’m on my way to Brooklyn.”
 

“Ah, yes, Brooklyn. Heard there is a safe haven there. That’s a good plan; your idea, or?” His voice trails off.

“Dad told me to go there right after the virus started to spread. He said it is one of the only places that we’re safe from the plague.”
 

This is the most Sara has said to anyone in a long time, and it is apparent to Mac and Ava that this new friend is actually an old friend of Sara’s. The group follows them into the building, and they all sit down at the picnic table seating that is in the center of the room. Off to their right is a small stage that has been the venue of some of the greatest music artists in the world. Sara sits between Billy and Dusty. Frank, sitting across from them, looks at Sara and then asks about her dad. She pauses at his request, and a tear builds up into the corner of one of her eyes.
 

“He’s gone.”
 

“I’m sorry, Sara. It’s okay now. You’re safe with us here,” Frank says with a strong and reassuring voice.
 

“We are only staying tonight, then north.”
 

“That’s all right; you guys can stay here as long as you want to. We’ve got plenty of food, water, and shelter.” Frank gives Sara a hug as he finishes his sentence. “Now, how
 
bout’ something to eat. How does that sound, Sara? You guys hungry?”

Sara grins and hugs Frank back. “Yes, I’m starving.”
 

Frank motions to a couple of the other survivors, and they disappear off to the right of the stage. Returning a few minutes later, they are carrying a couple of baskets of fried food. “Here, you guys refill on this, and we can catch up on old times.” Frank stands up and waves to the others to leave the building.

Sitting alone, the three devour the baskets of fried meat. Ava bites into a piece and replies, “Chicken.”

Sara looks at her and starts to giggle. “You are all kinds of stupid, aren’t you? See any chickens when we walked up?”
 

“Well, no. But tastes like chicken anyway.”
 

Sara looks back at her and starts to smile as she speaks with a mouthful. “Rattlesnake, that’s what it is, and delicious, too.”
 

“Beats canned hash. I don’t care what it is; I’m just glad your friends are welcoming us.” Ava replies.

Mac is licking his fingers as he pours more salsa out from a bottle onto the snake. “What gives, Sara? Who are these guys?”
 

Sara looks at him and starts to frown. “They’re just some of my dad’s friends that lived near Houston.” She twirls the snake between her fingers and is about to say something more about her long-lost friends, when Frank returns with three beers.