Roman Cesaro - Fallen Into Darkness

“Where are the others?” said the tattooed man with a threatening voice, while pointing the machete at Richard.

“I don’t know! What do you want from me?”

“I saw you fellas hav’n some trouble with your rafts on the lake. I saw you come down here, too. I was think’n that since you didn’t know how to use ‘em right, I’ll just take ‘em off your hands… and those supplies, too. Get your ass up!”

The stranger never heard Robert’s panther-like approach. He did notice Richard’s facial expression change as he glanced past the tattooed man and toward the dark woods. Richard saw Robert with the pistol leveled at the intruder’s head. It was dark, but Robert had crept so close, a blind man could have got a perfect headshot. It was doubtful that the intruder had a chance to see Robert at all. Most likely, he never even saw the orange muzzle flash from the pistol. He was dead before he hit the ground.

“Richard, are you okay?” asked Robert.

“Yeah… I’m… okay.” Richard held his hands up and looked at them. They were shaking violently. Kyle came out from behind the bushes and told Richard he would have to move back into the thicket and stay concealed. Richard stepped out of the raft and helped Kyle carry it into the dark wooded area. As he walked away Richard felt the warm urine that had soaked his pants go cool in the nighttime air. He hoped the other two men did not notice and was glad to be walking into the darkness. The three finally drifted to sleep in their rafts, covered by their plastic tarps.

Robert was the first to wake the next morning. He remained under the tarp as his mind migrated from the world of peaceful dreams to his newfound reality. His body was motionless as he lay there, listening to nature’s morning chatter by the river. He closed his eyes and tried to identify all the noises from his new surroundings. There was an orchestra of songbirds, crickets, frogs, a few buzzing insects that had found their way under the tarp, and the perpetual sound of the river. He pulled the tarp aside and felt the cool morning air. He groped around on the floor of the raft to verify that the pistol remained where he had hid it, then he stood and stepped out of the raft, saying quietly to himself, “Time to start the day.”

Robert walked out of the thicket and toward the smoldering campfire. He split a few pieces of driftwood and tossed them on the glowing embers to get the flames back, hoping there would be fish to cook. Then his attention turned to the where he left the intruder last night. He glanced at the lifeless body, and walked toward it. The sound of chopping wood had awakened Kyle from the short night’s sleep. He joined Robert and they both stood staring at the man sprawled on the ground.

“What do you want to do with the body?” asked Kyle.

“Nothing. Let the buzzards have it,” Robert replied.

Pointing at the body Robert said, “This is the reason why we need to avoid people. I can’t imagine what the roads will be like. They’re probably full of desperate people like this guy.”

“What roads will be the worst?” asked Kyle.

“The interstates will be bad. You don’t know how happy I am that we’re not trying to travel on an interstate. Lots of people were stranded on the interstates and with every second that passes, they’re going to get more desperate. Then inside the towns, I know there’s going to be road blocks and traps set for the unsuspecting.”

“Robert, I looked at Richard’s map. I hate to tell you, but the interstate stays by this river for miles. We’ll be right beside that interstate for… I don’t know how long. I saw a small town on the map named Cascade, downstream from here. We might be able to get there by the end of the day. Then next is Great Falls, and we’ll have five dams to get around in about ten miles.”

“Shit!” Robert exclaimed. “There are five dams outside of Great Falls?”

“Yeah. I didn’t think you wanted to hear that. One more thing, Great Falls has a military base. There’ll be plenty of soldiers with guns that we need to avoid.”

Robert shook his head and said, “Well, there’s nothing we can do about that. We’d better get busy. See if we got any fish last night and I’ll get more wood on the fire.”

Kyle went to the trotlines that he had set the previous day. Each line was tied around a large stick and the end of the stick was hammered securely into the ground. He pulled on the first line and it felt heavy. Kyle hauled the line in and revealed a large catfish. He pulled the fish up to dry ground where it flailed convulsively. Kyle grabbed a large stick and hit the fish squarely on the head to kill it. He was able to retrieve two more catfish of similar size from the remaining lines, and the other fish met the same fate when he hauled them in. Kyle, now in possession of the switchblade that Robert had acquired, used it to cut a long flexible branch from a small tree. He used this little branch to thread through their gills so he could carry the fish after he cleaned them on the riverbank. He carefully looped each fishing line, then wrapped them in an old shirt and placed the bundle in the raft. Kyle was afraid that the fishhooks, if left uncovered, could puncture the raft. He walked back toward the campfire with the cleaned fish hanging on the green stick. Midway to the fire, he stopped and focused on the ground in front of him. He noticed a camouflage backpack in the weeds and picked it up to take back to camp.

Richard was at the campfire, prodding the coals with a long stick. Robert was cutting newly picked cattails to length and then peeling the shoots for breakfast. Kyle approached Robert and dropped the backpack at his feet.

Looking at the intruder’s dead body, and then looking at the backpack, Robert asked, “What did Santa Claus bring us?”

Kyle passed the fish to Richard, then dumped the contents of the backpack on the ground. There were clothes, a knife, some paracord, binoculars, and cookware. He tossed the knife and cookware to Richard and told him to cook the fish in one of the pans. He also placed the machete back in its sheath and gave it to Richard.

“Let’s keep all of it. You never know when we might need it,” Robert suggested.

They ate boiled catfish and cattails, then boarded the rafts and resumed their journey.

Heading downstream, they kept cautious eyes on the interstate. There were people still stranded on the road. Some saw the three men in their rafts and waved, while others were oblivious. Most of the stranded travelers would be dehydrated and beginning to get desperately hungry by now.

At a point where the road came close to the river, they saw a woman by the water’s edge. She appeared to be drinking the river water. The woman was carrying a bundle of something in her arms, but the men were too far away to see what it was. Kyle put his paddle down and motioned for the others to do the same. He retrieved the binoculars from the backpack and brought the woman into focus. He could see she was carrying something close to her body as she positioned herself to drink the river’s water.

“It’s a baby. She has a baby in her arms,” said Kyle.

The woman looked up and saw the men floating down the river. Standing up, she lethargically began to wave with one arm. Her weakness overcame her and she went to her knees. She raised her weary arm to signal them again. The men could barely hear her attempt at a scream for help.

“Look around. If it’s clear, we should try to help her,” said Robert.

Fearing an ambush, Kyle looked around with the binoculars, but saw no threats. The riverbank gradually met the water with a barely existent slope. The men beached their rafts nearby and approached the woman. Robert immediately thought of the family he was desperately trying to get to. This increased the urgency he felt to help the woman and her baby.