Roman Cesaro - Fallen Into Darkness

“Let’s take the big one,” said Kyle.

“Keep your eyes open for anything we can use,” said Robert.

The men entered the large RV.

“Sleeping in a bed, now that’s going to be a change,” said Robert. “I have slept on the ground every night, except the night in the deer stand, since that asshole stole my raft.”

Kyle picked a bed in the rear and reclined on it, putting his hands behind his head. “I could fall sleep right now.”

“Guys, you have to see this! It’s a shower and it works,” Richard yelled from the bathroom.

“Hey, shut it off. I’ll climb on top to see how much water is left in the tank,” said Kyle.

Kyle went outside to find the water level gauge.

Robert grinned at the prospect of being clean. “Maybe we could take a quick shower and wash these clothes.” Robert turned to look in the bathroom mirror. He did not recognize the man staring back at him. The sun had burned his skin red. He had greasy hair and a short beard. The man in the mirror looked like any of the homeless people he would routinely see, and ignore, in the downtown area by his office building.

Kyle shouted from outside, “Fifty gallons. Let’s get busy.”

Each man took his dirty clothes into the shower with him. They washed the dirt and smell of the river off their bodies, and then rinsed the filth out of their clothes. They hung the wet clothes on a makeshift clothesline inside the RV. Wrapped in blankets on their beds, the men woke to dry clothes in the morning. They knew their cleanliness would be short lived, but it was a pleasant change.

When Robert awoke, he noticed that he was the last to rise. His eyes scanned the inside of the RV for anything useful. He opened every cabinet and carefully took note of any item that could help their journey. He put a fillet knife, cooking spices, and a package of lighters in a large stainless steel pot and wrapped that in several blankets. That was all he would take. The cooking spices would add some flavor to the bland food.

Robert joined the men sitting at the picnic table and put the newly acquired bundle of items at his side. “Let’s give this man the fish we caught overnight and get on our way. I want to get an early start. He needs the fish more than we do.”

The man was pleased to have acquired three large catfish from his unexpected meeting with the strangers. There was a polite wave goodbye and informal thanks from the men as they left the campground. When they were far enough away that the man couldn’t hear him speak, Robert said, “He’ll be dead in a week.”

They pulled the rafts free from the shrubbery and lowered the food from the tree limb, then rearranged the supplies for better balance in the rafts and prepared to enter the river.

“The map has another campground about a day away. We could probably be there tomorrow morning. What do you think it’ll be like?” Kyle asked. “Could it get worse than what we just saw?”

“I think it’ll get worse every day,” replied Robert. “That man back there is going to starve to death and his friends will most likely die on the road looking for help.” Robert jumped into the raft and held it close to shore by clinging to a small tree hanging over the river. “Let’s go.”

The morning air was cool and the current was swift. They did not need to paddle much because the current was doing most of the work as they went downstream. It felt good to be in clean clothes and just floating for a change. They ate deer jerky, beans, and some partially dried chokecherries as they floated along, and later they stopped to filter water near a steep dirt embankment. Robert got the river-cane arrows from the raft and decided it would be wise to practice shooting the bow on a regular basis. Kyle and Richard joined him. They practiced at a distance from which someone could reasonably expect to get a squirrel or rabbit. The cane arrows still had no sharp tips, just blunt ends that could stun a small animal.

Several more hours downstream, they found an ideal location to set up camp for the night. The riverbank was gravelly with a slight slope and there were enough trees around to supply wood for a campfire. They pulled the rafts out of the water, and began to set up camp.

Richard walked over to some large rocks that created a fire ring and noticed something strange. “Hey, look at this,” Richard announced. He pointed to where he was going to build a fire. “Don’t you think that’s weird?”

Kyle poked at the ashes with a stick. “They’re fresh.”

“Who would want to build a fire here?” Richard asked.

“Someone floating downstream, and I bet we know who it is,” said Robert. “He must be moving slow, because we’re closing in on him.” He squinted his eyes and surveyed the horizon. Then he mumbled to himself, “Wait ‘till we meet again, asshole.”

Early the next morning Robert found some wild greens to go with the catfish that Kyle caught overnight, and they used some of the new spices with their breakfast.

“If I am judging the distance correctly, we’ll make it to the next bridge and campsite this morning,” said Robert. “Let’s stop before we get to it, and be extra cautious. There’s someone out there we should try to avoid.”

The men continued their journey, staying close to the riverbank and keeping their speed down. They did not want to travel fast today. Going slower would help them keep a safer distance from obstacles and dangers in their path. It was not long before they saw, in the distance, another concrete bridge spanning the river. They hugged the riverbank and Robert signaled for Kyle to get the binoculars out of the backpack. They floated a little further down, but the steep terrain and trees blocked the view. Trees were plentiful around the perimeter of the RV park. The men found a location on the same side of the river as the campground, and went ashore. They hid the rafts, as usual, and then moved to higher ground. They would feel more secure if they observed the area before they passed it or decided to make contact. The tree line stopped at the top of the slope overlooking the campsite. At this distance, they would need the binoculars to get a good view of the roadside campground. Kyle scanned the park with the binoculars.

“See anything?” asked Robert.

“Maybe ten or twelve people. That’s just a guess. They’re walking around the RVs. There are a few children down there, too.” Kyle changed his position and adjusted the focus of the binoculars. “That’s weird. They all seem to be looking in the same direction, toward the river.” Kyle lowered the binoculars and handed them to Robert.

“You’re right; the adults are all looking toward the water.” Robert shifted his position to view the riverbank near the park. “I see two people. Two men, down by the river. The guy with long hair looks big. He has red hair and a flannel shirt. He’s talking to a guy with short hair, maybe light brown or blonde, wearing a gray shirt. They’re standing by a raft.” Robert strained his eyes for more detail. The two men moved slightly away from the raft as they talked. “Hey, guys, that looks like my raft down there.” The larger man began jabbing his finger at the other man and appeared to be yelling at him. Robert adjusted the focus of the binoculars just as the smaller man turned and seemed to be yelling back at the larger man. “It’s him. I can see his face now. That’s Haber down there.” Robert handed the binoculars back to Kyle.

“I see him. That’s definitely Haber, and it looks like the guy with the flannel shirt is pissed off. Wait a second… ouch… Sergeant Haber just went flying backwards into the raft. The big guy is walking back to the campground now. Haber is just lying there.”