Family Reunion "J" (37 page)

Jon and Jay made sufficient repairs to the Harley to make it roadworthy. The repairs consisted of both of them using a pipe to beat the handlebars straight again, or somewhat straight. Auddy had argued that they should just leave the bike, but Jay wouldn’t hear of it. So now, Jay led the group on the motorcycle, Gwenn drove Jay’s SUV, and Jon and Auddy brought up the rear in their new trucks.

They had their pick of the lot at Greenville Chevy. Auddy was going to keep the old Ford F-150, but changed her mind when she saw the brand-new vehicles, especially since the payments were so reasonable. She wanted the red Camaro, but they talked some sense into her and she rolled off the lot in a loaded Silverado.

They had just come through Greenville, South Carolina. It was a large city and they had debated whether they should go around it, but they were tired of constantly detouring on their way home. They’d passed several groups of people, all of whom wanted them to stop, but none had attacked them outright.

Jay had no helmet. She had always worn one when riding. Now, with her hair in a ponytail whipping in the wind, she understood what she’d heard others say about the sense of freedom that came with riding bareheaded. She stayed a mile or so ahead of the rest of the group. Riding with Jon’s binoculars around her neck, she stopped and used them whenever she saw something ahead that could be an issue. She hadn’t seen anything since they cleared Greenville though, and the wrecked vehicles had thinned out to where she could drive forty miles an hour for extended periods.

She came around a bend in the road and spotted a figure ahead. She brought the bike to a halt. “Got someone on the road ahead,” she radioed back to the group. “Be careful,” Auddy’s voice came back.

She brought the binoculars up and focused on the figure walking beside the road. It was a man, or she thought it was, by the way the person moved. Her right arm ached, but the sharp pain she’d almost gotten used to was gone. She’d have to get Auddy to help her get rid of this damn cast; it was a pain in the ass.

The man was carrying something, but Jay couldn’t make out what it was from this distance. It could be a small suitcase. She fired the bike up and pulled the AR around from her back to where it was cradled in front of her for easy access. The man finally heard her approach when she was half a mile from him. He stopped, looked around like he wanted to hide, but there was no place he could go. She drove by him at about sixty. He just turned and followed her movement. He didn’t draw a weapon or act aggressive. Jay went on another half a mile and didn’t see anyone else. She turned around and returned to the traveler.

She pulled up short and loosened the AR’s two-point sling. It fell to an easy position. She stayed on the bike and waited for the man to get closer. He hesitated for a step, but kept coming. When he got in range, she spoke. “Nice day for a stroll.”

“Not really. All I have is this gas can. If you want it, you can have it. I am just trying to get where I am going.”

“Where’s that?”

“Up the road some, how about you?”

Jay laughed. “Let’s cut the bullshit. My name’s Jay, you got a gang or something?”

That caused the man to laugh. “Yes, we are some, how do you say it, ‘bad hombres.’”

Jay had always been suspicious of strangers. Her husband Ryan never met one—a stranger, that is—but she was always careful not to be too quick to befriend someone. Her instinct had always served her well, and now that the world had gone to shit, she was even more suspicious. However, this guy was setting off no alarms. He was obviously unarmed; he acted as if he wanted to be pleasant.

“What the hell,” Jay said. “My group is coming shortly; you want to tell me a story that might convince me to help you?”

By the time Gwenn pulled up, Jay had given the guy a bottle of water and was deep in conversation with him.

Gwenn warily exited the SUV with her pistol in her hand. “What’s going on?” she asked casually, while keeping the SUV between herself and them. Auddy and Jon were on the scene shortly thereafter, and all of them were interested in the walking man.

“Guys, I want you to meet Julian, or Dr. Ruegg. He has an unbelievable story he is relating to me, and needs a ride to West Virginia. He says his son and girlfriend are another four miles up the road out of gas.”

Reaching the conclusion that they were on their own came hard for Mark. They’d buried Patty’s mom on the hill overlooking the valley two days before. She had fought the flu for over a week and they thought she might survive. Unfortunately, she made it through the worst only to die of congestive heart failure. That’s what the doc from down the road said. They’d made it to his dad’s bug-out location and had plenty of food and water. The neighbors had seen big losses among themselves, both to the virus and to the vaccine. The population of the whole valley was related to each other, except for the Brant family that had bought a piece of land right down in the middle of them. The area was called Arden on the map, but was known as Mitchell’s Hollow by everyone within shouting range. Mark was about to fall asleep on his feet. He’d been working from dawn to dark every day since they’d made it to the property just south of Tygart Lake.

The sound of a motorcycle brought him out of his state of half sleep. He’d been filling a bucket with water from the twenty-four-foot swimming pool his dad had installed back when they were kids. The dogs were barking like crazy, so he grabbed the 1894 Winchester that had once belonged to his granddad and made his way to the front of the house. When he rounded the corner, he saw a motorcycle and two vehicles, a new Chevy Silverado and a sleek, if dirty, Mercedes Benz. What he saw next brought tears to his eyes immediately. His mom turned away from the motorcycle toward him, and Auddy climbed out of the truck.

To all of you who have purchased and read this book, without you this would be an adventure with no real point. You are the best!

I would like to thank Michael Hyatt. As an editor, he is top shelf. He has put up with my unique style of writing and helped pull it all together for you the reader.

To my beta readers, thanks again for suffering through the changes and helping me form this story.

A special thank you to Dr. Peter Teichman, who helped tremendously with the medical side of the book. Please note that any errors are all his fault. Just kidding. As usual, I may have taken license here and there, so blame any erroneous science on me. Peter, may you stay safe on your adventures in Cambodia. I am enriched for having met you.

As always, I have saved the best for last. To my family, you are my reason for living. Thank you so much for the way you bless my life daily.

Mark has always been a bit of a vagabond. Born in Washington, raised in California, he joined the U.S. Coast Guard after high school. During his Coast Guard career, he was an admiral’s driver in San Francisco, a deckhand on a cutter in the Bering Sea, and an aviation electrician in North Carolina, Texas, and Florida. After he left the Coast Guard he worked security, first guarding MX nuclear missiles, then at a nuclear power plant in California. Eventually he went to college in Wisconsin, only to drop out after meeting his future wife. He went on to finish college at age 36 and owned a Miracle Ear franchise for a while. He went into publishing for a short time before becoming an information systems specialist. Mark currently splits his time between West (by God) Virginia and Surfside Beach, South Carolina.

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