James Rawles - Liberators

“Don’t forget the roving criminal gangs, and people not getting their medicines,” added Megan.

Joshua nodded. “With that said, we’ll have less people between the state forest and Bradfordsville in the spring; however, the bad news is those that are left will be highly suspicious of road walkers.”

“I agree,” Megan said. “But I think that we should walk and talk so that we’re making progress.”

There were still a few vehicles on the road here and there, but not like what they had expected. There were other groups of road walkers as well, occasionally a family, but none of them seemed to be very well prepared. Joshua’s party was wary whenever a stranger approached, and they kept their guns close at hand. Folks headed east would ask them about news out that way, whether they could cross over into West Virginia, if Louisa was peaceful, and so on. Likewise, the small group would try to ask for news to the west without giving up too many details of their own.

At a halt everyone would drink water and eat something, even if it was just three or four dehydrated carrot slices, in order to keep their energy up. Given their slower pace with the boys, the sixty minutes on- and ten minutes off-duty cycle worked out especially well for their mileage expectations. Since they were eating small bites here and there, they didn’t need to take a long break for meals, either.

The group stopped to rest for the night before they reached the Route 7 junction. It was their first full day of walking and everyone was getting used to the hot spots on their feet. They all decided to move one hundred meters into the dense brush off the road to set up camp for the night. The carts were picked up and carried in through the first ten meters of thick roadside brush to avoid leaving any obvious sign of crushed brush that any unskilled tracker could follow. Since they didn’t know who would be coming along the road, they also decided against having a fire that night. Jean and Leo heaped up a pad of leaves and pine needles about ten feet by twelve feet and six inches deep. Megan laid out the large tarp she’d bought at the pawnshop. Then she pulled out her smaller tarp, which was folded in half and zip-tied together on two sides, putting her sleeping bag inside that. Malorie did the same.

Jean and Leo would take turns sleeping with either Auntie Malorie or their mom on a given night, helping both of them to stay warm with each other’s heat. Joshua put his sleeping bag in between theirs, and the other side of the tarp would fold over to keep them mostly dry should it start to rain or snow.

Sidearms were to stay either inside their sleeping bags or inside the fold of a sweatshirt acting as a pillow for ease of access. Likewise, long weapons would be between the sleeping bags to stay dry and not be out of arm’s reach if they were to encounter robbers at night, a fear never far from the minds of the adults.

Since it had been days since the adults had slept, the group decided not to keep a watch that night, and with the exception of bio breaks in the middle of the night they all slept from complete exhaustion until daybreak.

Leo was the first to awake in the morning, when a squirrel dropped an acorn on the tarp. He had grown up on the homestead but had never slept under the stars before. In the still morning air, he just lay there snuggled up next to his auntie Malorie watching and pointing one little finger out of the sleeping bag at the squirrels racing up and down the tree. Not long after, Malorie awoke and noticed that her nephew was watching the squirrels. She kissed his head and smoothed his hair and couldn’t help but think how incredibly hard the next few months would be for all of them, and how they were refugees in their own country.

The group broke camp and repacked the carts after a small breakfast. It was unspoken between the adults to not eat as much as they normally would so that the food supply would last longer for the boys. They would need more fuel for warmth and for growth, and it was their survival that served as the charter for this mission in the first place.

By late afternoon they had reached their destination in the state forest, but they still needed a place to shelter. Megan stayed with Jean and Leo to watch the carts, while Joshua and Malorie left on a recon patrol to find a suitable place to over-winter. Malorie had the map out and was speaking to Joshua on a hilltop overlooking the beautiful lake. “I heard you say that you liked this dovetail protrusion here sticking out into the lake? I think that we should check the south side of that ridge for a suitable cave to shelter in. This way we can maximize our solar exposure and not be as cold.”

“Good idea, I like where your head is at.”

Before long, they found a suitable cave that would prove to be very tight quarters, but would keep them dry and, they hoped, undetected by anyone passing through. They decided to drop their packs to lighten their load on the way back so that they could move quickly with Megan, Jean, and Leo before complete darkness. Malorie suggested that they just take what they needed from the carts and leave them cached well out of sight so that they could move faster and bed down before nightfall. Joshua replied, “Good idea. Megan, may I carry your pack? This way you can assist Malorie with the boys. I’ll grab the tarps and extra blankets. I’m not sure about you, but I got cold last night.”

“Not me,” said Malorie. “I was too busy with all of the squirming going on in my sleeping bag!” as she reached out to tickle Leo, who squealed with laughter.

The next morning, everyone awoke and ate something. Megan wanted to start good habits, so she had the boys brush their teeth with the minimal amount of toothpaste immediately after breakfast, and then everyone gathered around and took turns reading a chapter of Scripture followed by prayer. It helped the morning feel more normal and familiar.

Megan and Joshua set out to retrieve the carts from their cache. It gave them a chance to sit, talk, and share their thoughts—something that they had not done since fleeing D.C.

“You know, Megan my love, the last time we got to sit and talk was at the Agency. It seems like a lifetime ago. I have to tell you, I really feel cheated by this whole Crunch.”

“Really? How is that?”

“Well, I knew that I was falling in love with you, and of course I was thinking marriage, but it takes time to reach that decision, you know what I mean?”

“I do. As a matter of fact, I was in no hurry to get remarried. I was convinced that as soon as a guy found out that I had two sons, he would bolt. And even if he did stick around, who would walk me down the aisle now that my papa passed?” Megan traced a pattern in the forest floor between her feet with the stick she was holding. “That seems silly, doesn’t it?”

“Not to me it doesn’t. I want to hear your thoughts on marriage—I kinda like you.” He elbowed her and she giggled. “Wow, when was the last time you laughed?”

“Just now!” She laughed again, then looked away as a whitetail deer bounded back into a thick clump of brush on the other side of the open glade. “When you came along and still wanted me despite of all of the turmoil in my life, I thought that I was getting that second opportunity to live life again. Then, after just six short months of a romance, we have this financial crisis and the whole stupid Crunch—it’s just not fair. Why couldn’t we just have had two years to be married? You could have taught the boys to ride bikes, I could’ve packed your lunch every day for work, and we could’ve gone for family hikes after church on Sundays—why all of this? Why now? How many couples come home to each other and don’t say a word, each one taking dinner into a separate room to watch separate television shows and chat with separate friends on social media and sleep on separate sides of the bed? They wasted their days in peacetime, and they’ll probably be the first to kill each other in the lean times of this Crunch. I just think that you and I could have done better together.”