Tornado Warning (15 page)

“I don’t know that, Ryan. I’m sorry. I wish I had paid better attention, but my focus was on my situation and getting away alive.”

Ryan held his hand up and chewed on the inside of his cheek. Along with an ice cold beer and a night alone with Cecilia, he would’ve killed for a toothbrush and a bar of soap. “No need to apologize. You didn’t do a damn thing wrong.”

“You’ll find her, Ryan. And you’ll get help for your boy. I barely know you, but I can tell.”

Before Ryan could respond, a hard pull almost yanked the homemade fishing pole from his hands. He stood to get his bearings and edged it up to help prevent the weak hook from breaking and their dinner swimming away. The catfish was bigger than he had thought the line could support, so he tried to get it up to shore as fast as he could.

The fish flopped around on the ground and the hook did pull free, but Ryan was able to grab it before it bounced back in the water to freedom. The tail slapped against his arms but there was no way in hell that Ryan was going to let it get out of his grasp.

“Let’s get some more wood on that fire. We’re going to eat well tonight!”

Chapter Sixteen

Ryan’s pocketknife wasn’t as sharp as the one he was used to cleaning fish with. Laying the catfish on a large rock, he ran the blade down the edge, attempting to sharpen it. Steve pulled out a bottle of propane and attached it to the lantern they were carrying, giving him more light. The fire was big, but still did not produce enough light to make sure he didn’t waste the fleshiest part of the fish.

He inserted the tip of the knife on the fish’s underside and cut all the way up to its head. Spreading the incision open, he removed all of the entrails. Blood and guts squirted out, but with as hungry as he was, it didn’t bother him. He remembered when he tried to teach Cecilia and Ty how to clean a fish – this was the part where he always lost them, both of them saying it was too gross. He always had fish cleaning duties because neither of them wanted to get their hands dirty.

After making sure he had removed all of the intestines and inedible pieces, he scraped his finger against the backbone, cleaning out the cavity as best as he could. He rinsed it down with some water, getting the small drops of blood and things he couldn’t get with his fingers. The final touch was cutting the fish head off, and he discarded all of the pieces into the fire. With wild animals becoming as desperate as they were for food and water, he wanted to prevent any chance of luring them their way and become an easy target.

He needed a way to cook the fillets right over the open flame. They were thick pieces and he estimated the fish was at least a ten pounder. How it didn’t break the sewing thread and fragile hook he had concocted was nothing short of a miracle. Sharpening two long sticks, the best thing they could do was hold it over the flames like a weenie roast and make sure it didn’t slip off directly into the fire.

He handed one to Steve and began cooking their meal. The fire crackled and the smell of sizzling catfish made Ryan’s stomach growl and his mouth water.

“I usually prefer catfish dipped in some cornmeal and fried up with some seasonings, but right now, I’d consider eating it raw.”

“How often do you go fishing? You seem to know what you’re doing.” Steve rotated his fillet to the other side.

“Used to go almost every weekend. There are several lakes in the area. Never really did come to the river to do it. I wasn’t even sure if I’d be able to catch anything, but looks like it’s stocked up real nice with all of the rain and no one else out here fishing.”

“I used to go some up in Oklahoma, but I did more bass and trout. Used to have me a really nice pontoon boat and we’d have some parties right out there on Lake Canton. The drought pretty much drained that lake. It supplied Oklahoma City with their water, and last time I was up that way, it was nothing but a huge puddle. Kind of sad if you think about it.”

“That’s how it’s been around here, too. Lake Meredith up by Amarillo was Lubbock’s water supply. And it pretty much went downhill too. I’ve never seen this river as high as it is. I guess nature gives and takes away at the same time. But I know one thing. I’d take the drought over this any day.”

Steve turned his fillet again. “Really makes you think about all of that global warming stuff that has been in the news so much lately. I used to just half way listen, not taking it seriously, but how can we explain the caliber of storms that are happening now?”

The last thing Ryan ever wanted to talk about was global warming and the climate changes. Weather always had fascinated him, but he had seen enough severe storms to last for three more lifetimes. What he’d give for a calm day at his house.

“I think that the earth cycles, Steve. The weather patterns change. We have the El Nino and the La Nina. El Nino makes for a more active storm season in our area. La Nina means a drier winter. That all depends on where you live. Up north, the El Nino means a more mild winter.” He pulled his fillet from the fire and blew on it. It was steaming and the meat was flaky, just how he liked it. He’d give it few minutes to cool off, and then he would devour it.

“So I guess we’re in an El Nino pattern?” Steve asked.

“We were about a month ago. Hell, now, I think we’re just in an apocalyptic pattern.” Ryan laughed, but it really wasn’t that funny. It was too realistic. “Weather has gone from extreme to drought for years, but the difference in this is that it’s never crippled us for as long as it has. I’ve seen tornadoes before, but the damage from them was hit and miss. A house gone here, a car damaged there. But everything has been leveled. And where is everyone?”

“That’s all things I’ve been wondering about too.”

Ryan took a bite of the fish, and though it wasn’t how he normally prepared it, it was the best thing he had tasted in a long time. It beat the hell out of potted meat and preservative filled food that he had been surviving on. And the most important thing was that it was filled with protein. It was replenishing the loss of vitamins and nutrients from his days on processed, nonperishable items.

“Any other time and I’d say this was too fishy to eat, but tonight, I wish there were seconds,” Steve said as he finished his off. “Save the sapling and I can try and snag us one for breakfast. It’ll be a great way to start the day.”

“Definitely.” Ryan glanced at the Dr. Peppers supplied from Mrs. McElroy. He’d save drinking one for in the morning as well. It’d be a nice, caffeinated boost and the sugar would help with energy too. “I plan to cover a lot of ground tomorrow, so we’re going to need to get some rest tonight. I’d like to get to Harper Springs and see what the situation is there. Hopefully, we’ll run across more people that I know.”

Ryan smoothed out a place close to the fire and laid back on the grass. The ground was still moist and soft from all of the rain, and his aching body relaxed into it. He looked up at the stars, wondering if Cecilia was seeing the same, beautiful night sky that he was. There were no clouds, and the moon was big and bright enough to give them enough light to see the river.

Coyotes howled in the distance, sounding like an old ghost in a scary movie. Ryan shivered at the thought, hoping they’d stay far enough away to not pose a threat. The scent of cooking fish would probably work against them, but the presence of human life might deter the wild dogs. Or, with food seeming scarce for everyone, they might be on their way. Being close to the river had it’s advantages and disadvantages.

Ryan sat up and grabbed another thick stick from the spot where he found his fishing pole. He had the shotgun and his handgun, but he wanted to make other tools and weapons to prevent using all of their ammunition. Carving the tip, he downsized it to an inch in diameter and made a split tip spear. Sharpening the edges as best as he could, he tapped his finger to make sure it would get the job done.

He made another for Steve, who was snoozing away. He seemed to be more comfortable now that he had a blanket to keep warm, and Ryan was glad he was getting some much needed rest. He claimed his career had been farming, but so far, it didn’t seem like that was the whole story. He hadn’t been the best with survival skills, but Ryan wasn’t an expert either. He was ad-libbing as he went, trying to use his common sense to their advantage. So far, it had worked, but it was more luck than him knowing what he was doing. Steve was quiet, but the human contact made it where Ryan wasn’t going crazy. Without someone to talk to, he’d lose his mind.

One benefit Ryan had over Steve was that he knew the land and he knew the area. He had grown up in this part of Texas, knowing that you had to respect the land and weather to make it as a farmer, rancher, or someone inhabiting a few acres off of the highway. Steve was from Oklahoma where the situation was similar, but it all had to be disorienting. Being in a new place in a situation like this would make Ryan act the same as his new friend.

With the sound of coyotes not far away, Ryan couldn’t sleep. Leaning back against a tree, he held onto the spear. With the lack of human beings around, he had also wondered where all of the animals were. The land was spread with cattle and horses, and aside from a few dead carcasses, there had been no sign of them. He could definitely use a horse. He wouldn’t have to worry about fixing Mrs. McElroy’s car if he came across one, but they had been wiped off of the face of the earth like everything else had been.

Leaning his head back, he began to doze. The catfish was heavy in his stomach and without the presence of hunger, he was able to get to sleep faster.

And then he heard the growling. Jolting awake, he wasn’t sure how long he had been sleeping when he saw the coyote only a few feet from him, his fangs large, foam dripping from the corners of his mouth. He was ugly and ready to pounce at any second.

The spear wouldn’t do Ryan any good. The animal was rabid, his eyes red and filled with anger, his body skinny from lack of food. His handgun was in his pocket and the shotgun was propped up beside him. If he made a sudden move, the wild dog would be right on top of him and he’d never stand a chance.

Ryan moved slow as if he was dealing with a rattlesnake. Never taking his eyes off of the coyote, he took the shotgun in his hand. The dog was still growling, on the verge of making his move, ready to take a large bite out of Ryan. Steve was now awake too, and thankfully, knew not to do anything crazy. Ryan could see him from the corner of his eye, his eyes wide as they were being controlled by a mid-size beast who was diseased and ready to kill.

If he waited much longer, the coyote’s patience would be gone. Pulling the shotgun in aim, the dog ran at him, and Ryan fired a shot into the night air, unable to pinpoint exactly where he wanted to aim. The animal fell to the ground, whimpering as it hit with a hard thud. If Ryan hadn’t shot when he did, he’d be a dead man.

Standing, he paced around the coyote, his adrenaline pumping. It took him a second to comprehend what had happened, and when he looked over at Steve, he tried to come down off of the natural high.

“Don’t they usually travel in packs?” Steve asked, joining him over the motionless animal.

“Not usually. Maybe in pairs, but I’ve never seen a lot together. This one was sick. He had rabies.” Ryan pointed down at it with his shotgun. “Holy shit, if he was rabid, that means there are others out there who are too. We’ve gotta be extra careful. There’s coyotes, foxes, and we’ve even got mountain lions that come down from time to time. They’re going to start looking for food, and the food chain has shifted.”

“We’re no longer at the top of it,” Steve said, clarifying what Ryan meant.

“Yep. We are one shotgun shell less, so that’s another thing we need to be looking for. I made a couple of spears so we can avoid shooting if the situation allows, but if we’re talking rabid animals, we’re going to need stronger weapons.”

“And let’s not forget about the looters.”

“Animals and looters,” Ryan repeated, shaking his head. “I wish this nightmare would finally end.” He took another long glance at the coyote. “I guess for the rest of the night, we’ll need to take watch. You want first or second shift?”

Steve took the shotgun from Ryan. “I’ll go first. I’ve already gotten some sleep. Looks like you could use some shut eye.”

“Wake me up in two hours.” It was a moot point. Ryan wouldn’t get a good night’s rest until his family was back together, safe under one roof. Until then, insomnia was his best friend.

Leaning back against a tree on the other side of their campsite, he closed his eyes, but all he could see was the rabid coyote lunging at him, followed by the loud gun blast that saved his life. Regardless of how much rest he got, they had to push through and keep moving as soon as the sun came up.

For Cecilia, for Ty, the looters, and to keep the animals from trailing them.

Chapter Seventeen

As expected, Ryan hadn’t slept a wink. He laid on the ground, staring up at the stars and the bright moon, and when his two hours were up, he stood guard the rest of the night, allowing Steve to get rest. A few other coyotes were spotted in the distance, but they never got close enough to pose a problem.

He pulled his handgun from his pocket and slipped the magazine from the handle. It was full, but it was all he had. At least the shotgun could be used as a weapon without shells. It would just require getting closer to whatever nuisance was causing problems, whether it was another person or rabid dogs.

The sun slowly came up over the top of the mountains. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and for a moment, Ryan hoped that the weather would be perfect to cover several miles. He had a hard time getting a good vantage point, but Harper Springs was still probably a good seven to eight miles north of their location. If everything cooperated, they could get there by later in the day, of course, if they kept a good pace. Having a decent dinner the night before was helpful, he just wished he was able to get more sleep than he had.

He gathered up some pine needles for kindling, stacked some wood, and got a fire going. Coffee sounded good, and he poured some water and grounds in the percolator. It was becoming their biggest necessity. It’d be his saving grace after a crazy night that almost ruined his plans. With so much on his shoulders, he had to be smart. If only he could reach his dad on his cell phone and see how Ty was doing.

Steve stretched out and tossed the blanket aside, grumbling something about how early it was. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Bacon, eggs, and hash browns,” Ryan replied, smirking. It made his mouth water, and he pulled a package of pop tarts from his bag, compliments of the looters. They were brown sugar and cinnamon, and would taste great with the coffee.