As the World Ends (14 page)

“I think I just wet myself,” Lauren whispered.

“Me, too,” Rob joked, not wanting to show Lauren his fear but finding it hard to hide it.

“How are we going to walk down the mountain with bears and who knows what else out there?” Her voice cracked.

“We have no choice, Lauren. My best guess is Roan’s mobile by now and as far as we know his truck is still working.”

“Bear or Roan, that’s my choices? Huh, not good.”

“Yes, and I trust the bear to be who he is,” Rob said seriously.

“Trust the bear? How stupid is that?”

“Yes, trust the bear. He’s not going to try to befriend us. We know his true nature, and he’ll act accordingly. I can fight something I know. Roan is an unknown. A loose cannonball, if you will.”

“Oh, but we’re not leaving right away, are we?” Turning she stared at the last spot she’d seen the bear before turning back to him.

“We can’t hang out here or let down our guard. I had wanted to get an early start, but that’s blown. We’ll eat. Go through our stuff, pack some food and water and anything else we might need. We’ll wear the light clothing for during the day and carry our sleeping bag, pants and sweaters for later. Nothing more. We have to travel lite. Hopefully, we can come back and get the rest of our stuff at a later date.”

“Okay, that should take some time. I don’t want to run into the bear. Call me crazy, but he scares me.”

Rob watched the woods as Lauren packed up her backpack. Next, she started to pack his.

“I’ll pack that. You watch the woods. I think the bear’s long gone, but keep looking, not just where you saw him last, scan the whole area.” He handed her the binoculars.

“Why, did you see something?” He almost laughed when she tried to twirl her head in all directions at once.

“No. I want to make sure the coast is clear before we leave the truck.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

It took hours for him to get back. The injured leg required rest, often hampering his speed.
God, I’m so fucking tired.
Eyes half closed, he only wanted to sleep, but fear pushed him on. After a while he sat down to rest. The bushes rustled a couple of times as he sat. Using his stick he pounded the ground and beat the bushes to scare away whatever was trailing him.
Damn, the animals smell fresh meat. And I refuse to be their dinner.

The sun was coming up over the tree line as he entered his cave. Collapsing on the ground just inside the cave’s entrance he closed his eyes. With no strength left to forge to the back of the cave, he leaned his back against the wall by the entrance. Exhaustion filled his body, frustration crowded his mind.

Opening his eyes, he looked to the back of the cave. Jesus, why had he set up camp in the back? All his supplies were there. With his back against the wall, he dug his good foot into the ground as he wiggled up the wall; as each rock jabbed at his back, it reminded him how much he hated Rob Henderson. The last fifty feet were the hardest. Finally making it to the back, he grabbed the beach chair and sat. The duffle bag with the first aid supplies he needed to fix his leg sat outside his reach. With a groan he leaned over the side of the chair to grab the bag. The chair wobbled then fell along with him. Roan tumbled over with the chair, hitting the ground hard. Pain raced through his body. Rummaging through his duffle bag, he pulled out his first-aid kit and went to work on his leg. He knew a little something about treating wounds. Cathy, who was a nurse, had shown him how to clean them. It nauseated him, but he absorbed what she said. Good thing.

He washed his leg wound, screaming as he poured the rubbing alcohol on it to disinfect it. It had scabbed over, so it wasn’t as deep as he thought. The bullet had passed through the fleshy part of his thigh. A couple of inches to the inside and he’d be pushing up daisies. Attributing it to destiny and not luck, he washed down three over-the-counter pain pills with a swig of whiskey to increase its power as he wished for something stronger. Next, he washed and disinfected the scratches on his neck. With his last ounce of energy, he wet a cloth with water. After he climbed into the sleeping bag, he draped the wet cloth over his forehead and eyes. Haunting dreams along with a restless mind kept sleep at bay. An hour later, he jumped up with a start, he must have dozed off. While he lay there, he assessed his condition. The pain was still there but bearable. The sweating had stopped, maybe his fever had broke.

“That God damn fox did a number on me. If I’m to survive, I’m gonna have to protect this cave better.”

Eyeing the cooler, he tried to reach for it, but it was just out of his reach. A sharp pain coursed up his leg as he pushed to his feet.

“God, I’m starving.”

Opening the cooler he reached in and pulled out some cheese and bit off a chunk of it. He shook the protein drink before twisting off the cap and swigged it down. Fluid snorted out of his nose as the drink went down the wrong pipe. Coughs racked his body as he spit out the remaining shake. Finally catching his breath, he drank slowly, finishing off the bottle. Looking in the cooler again, he saw some sick looking grapes, popped one in his mouth, and spit it right out. He grabbed a slice of bread. Noticing it was moldy, he decided beggars couldn’t be choosy as he picked off the mold and ate the unspoiled part of the bread.

“Disgusting,” he said. “All this food is going bad fast. I’m not in any condition to hunt either.” The thought made him sick. First, the idea of killing what you had to eat was gross; second, because his physical condition limited his movements. If he wasn’t careful, he’d be at the bottom of the food chain.

“Maybe I should drive to the town at the bottom of the mountain and get some food. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll drive by Rob’s cave on the way and see if they’ve returned.” He picked up his gun and cocked it at the thought of Rob.

Un-cocking it, he placed it in the holster on his hip. The bag by the cooler he grabbed and packed it with water, some candy bars, and a jacket. The truck wasn’t far from the cave, though it seemed like miles. Roan hobbled from the cave to the truck and climbed up into it. It took almost a half hour to do that simply task.
Damn, what I’d give for a car low to the ground right now
. There wasn’t a site on his body that didn’t scream from the abuse he had endured as he pushed himself to the limit.

Sweat poured down his back as he started to shake from the pain singing up his leg. With tight fists, he grabbed the steering wheel trying to catch his breath while he mentally re-focused on his next task. The nausea started to ease.

Once his body calmed down, he turned the key in the ignition and started the truck. Pulling out, he headed over to Rob’s cave. It dawned on him he would have to draw up right outside the cave because his leg wouldn’t let him walk too far. So much for the advantage of surprise, he thought.
If the bastard was going to kill me he would have already done so, when he had the chance. Or so I hope. One never knew what a person would do once they had time to think.

He winced every time the truck hit a bump and slowed his pace. A half hour later he found himself in front of Rob’s cave. After he put the truck into park, he took out his handgun, slid the safety off, and cocked the hammer. From under his seat he pulled out a flashlight and flicked the switch. When it didn’t light, he banged it a couple of time on the seat. Once again he flipped the switch. Like magic, it lit. Taking a minute to gather his strength and his courage, he inhaled deeply to calm his nerves as he studied the opening before him. The entrance, devoid of either shadows or movement, gave him pause.
Don’t be such a pussy
.
The bastard won’t take me twice.
A war beat pounded in his chest, the adrenaline cheering him on. Roan patted the gun in his hand. Climbing down from the truck he made sure his right foot hit the ground first to absorb the shock.

Inch by inch he walked around the truck, stopping at the cave’s entrance. Silence. As he rounded the opening into the cave, he took a deep breath and shone his flashlight down the walkway. No movement. No sound. Ears listening intently for the most minute of sounds. In his weakened state, he leaned on the side wall for support, pausing before he walked further into the cave. Aware he’d dropped the light to his side, he raised it and shone it in all directions. It was exactly how he left it last night. The blood from his leg stained the ground by the cooler. It had reopened when he got in the fight with the fox. The fox’s carcass he dragged into the woods before he left as not to draw other animals into the cave. In case he ever needed to use this cave again, he didn’t want to have to compete with those animals that fed off the corpse of the fox.

Satisfied Rob and Lauren hadn’t returned, Roan limped out and climbed back into his truck. Frustrated, his energy drained, he took a sip of water then rested his head on the back of the seat as he closed his eyes.

A loud howl had him jerking up then cursing as he banged his knees on the steering wheel. “Damn, what time is it?”

Turning the key in the ignition, he checked the clock on the dashboard.
Christ, it’s after nine-thirty. I can’t believe I dozed off
.
Now, it will take me three God damn hours to reach town.
The radio not working was not something he had prepared for. To move forward, he needed to see what had happened in the town and the world. It annoyed him that he couldn’t pull anything in on his radio. Glad to see that the grey mist that hung in the air yesterday was gone, he also wanted to find out what caused it. Was it radiation? Could it cause cancer? Ever the hypochondriac his mind raced with all conceivable illness.

The plan—he wanted to be back here by sunset, so he better get it in gear and start heading down the mountain. After a half hour or so he spotted the green SUV.

“Well, well, well, look what I found.” Pleased, he put the truck into park and got out.

Cautiously, he limped around the truck before he looked inside. “Yep, definitely their truck.”

He realized he had spoken out loud and clamped his mouth shut. It wouldn’t do to announce himself. Eyeing the tree line he spotted the bear prints and drew his gun. Roan hoped it was long gone. Last thing he needed was to get into a fight with a bear. This time he had no doubt the bear would win. Sure it would be heavier than the fox. Hobbling around the SUV, he tried the doors. Locked.
Cautious bastard.
Resting his hand on the hood he checked for heat. “Hmmm, it’s cold.
I wonder why they left the truck here?”

Checking his watch, he realized it was almost ten o’clock. Slowly he worked his way back to the truck. As he climbed in, he noticed a big black pool of liquid on the ground.

“Hit something, did you, Rob?” He laughed.

Maybe he could catch up to them now that they were on foot. He wished he knew if they had an hour head start or a day’s. No matter, his luck had changed.
Ah, Lauren…

At eight forty-five they had started walking down the road. Rob didn’t think it was wise to stay on the main road, but it would’ve proved more difficult to navigate through the woods. Hugging the tree line in case they needed to hide quickly, they progressed slowly down the mountain. It still bothered him that the bear was up and out of his hibernation early. Who or what had disturbed him? Was it the grey mist yesterday?

“A penny for your thoughts,” Lauren asked.

“I’m thinking about the bear.”

“You think it was a person who disturbed him?”

His wife knew him. “Yes.”

“Oh.”

“Stop frowning, it causes your forehead to wrinkle and someday it might get stuck that way,” he joked, trying to take her mind off of it.

“Who cares?”

“Oh, I know you do.” He slung his arm around her shoulder.

“Please, Rob, your arm’s too heavy. I’ve got enough to carry.”

“Sorry, you’re tired. Do you want to stop?”

“I’m not tired. Yes, I am, but that’s not it. Do you think we’ll make if off the mountain?” She wiped her hand across her forehead.

Her question surprised him. “Yes, hon, I do.”

Stalling, trying to find the right words to give her comfort but keep her alert. He took his backpack off his shoulder, and reaching in he pulled out his water then drank. Before putting it back he offered it to her, she shook her head.

“If you’re asking if we saw the last of Roan, my answer would be no.” He stared at her as she processed his answer.

“Do you think he’s fit enough to come after us now or later?” Lauren pushed.

“I think now, Lauren. His vehicle’s working, so he can drive. He doesn’t have to walk.”

“Oh, then we better start walking faster,” she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him forward.

“Okay, faster it is.”