L Akers - Fight Like a Man

“Hey, you got a gun?”

“Yeah, got one in my bag right here.”

“How ‘bout you carry it on you. Things are already bad, man.”

Jake dug through the bag and found the gun. He carefully stuck it behind him in his waistband and pulled his shirt over it, but not before Tucker saw his stomach.

“Looks like you maybe you do need to ride that bike. Got a few extra pounds there, buddy.”

Tucker was full of shit. While he was in much better shape, Jake was no slouch. They worked out together every few weeks and Tucker was constantly badgering him to do more, just to heckle him.

“You worry about your own girlish figure,” Jake answered, and laughed. He hopped on the 4-wheeler and threw up a hand behind him, giving a quick wave goodbye.

But if he’d had had known then the shape Tucker would be in when they next met, he’d have held that last hug with his friend a bit longer and tighter.

GRAYSIE HUDDLED on her bed and opened the backpack her father had packed for her. The security guard had practically thrown it at her in his hurry to get away from the horrifying wave of menstruating young women.

Her roommate, Becky, had disappeared again, luckily before the guard had brought her bag. She was glad to have the privacy. Whatever she found, she wasn’t sharing with Becky.

The first thing she saw was an envelope with her name written in cursive across the front. She pulled out the two-page letter, and seeing it was also written in cursive, she leaned back on her pillows to read. Seeing her father’s handwriting—they called it their secret code, as schools had stopped teaching it and most of her friends couldn’t read or write cursive—squeezed her heart. She felt a lump building in her throat. She wished he could swoop in and take her home. They’d argued for so long about her not wanting to spend her weekends at the farm. She’d wanted to stay in Columbia, with her friends as much as she could. Now she wished she could take it all back. She’d give anything to be at the farm right this minute.

The letter read:

Graysie,

If you’re reading this letter, one of two things have happened. Either 1) You’ve been partying all night and have the munchies, and you are looking for a quick snack, or 2) You’re in a serious situation and you need to get home. If it is number one, I’d ask that just this once, you listen to your stupid ‘ole dad and put this letter away, close the bag, and put it back in your car. Don’t even peek. There’s nothing in here you need right now, but everything that you might really need later. Please, do as I ask, this one time without question. Put it away.

If it’s number two, flip the page and read on.

Graysie turned the paper over.

Okay, so you’re in a situation. I’m glad you remembered the bag. If you’re still reading, I’m assuming you’re at college, or somewhere else away from home. Your number one priority is to get home. Hear me? Get home, quick. You can do this. You’re a strong girl, you have your mother’s stubborn Irish streak to go along with those red curls and green eyes. I can’t say enough how sorry I am that we lost your mother at Hurricane Katrina. Even though I have Olivia now, my heart still bleeds for your mom. I loved—still love—her very much. She was your mom… but she was my wife.

I imagine you’re getting angry now, as you do each time I bring her up. I wish you’d let it go. It is true, I could’ve saved her, but I would have lost you. It was her wish that I went for you first. You won’t let me talk about this to you, and I don’t know if you truly remember, but you’d already gone under twice. I was closer to your mom, but you were in the most trouble. She begged me to go to you. I did it for both of us. I tried to get back to her after I had you to safety, but she was already gone. I followed her wishes, and I truly feel that now she’s watching over you. Watching over both of us. The things I’ve done at the farm, to be prepared for any other disaster, are for you. I won’t let you down again. But first things first, I need you here, where I can take care of you.

Graysie swiped at her wet eyes. It was true. She had blamed her dad for not saving their mom. She’d couldn’t remember much of anything from that fateful day, but she’d been forced to listen to the story repeatedly. She knew he could only save one of them.

She swallowed hard and vowed to finally let it go and stop holding it against him. He was her father. He did the best he could, and losing mom was just as hard on him as it was on her. She’d been a real ass to him.

The three most important things you’ll need are water, food, and protection. I’ve taken care of the first two in this bag. The third thing can be found in your dorm. (I hope you’re in your dorm when you read this) You’ll be surprised to know when I was putting your bed together I did more than turn some screws. Lay down on the floor and crawl underneath your bed. Look in the far, far corner. Be careful with what you find!

Graysie threw the letter down and jumped to the floor, lying on her stomach and scooting under. She pushed aside bins of shoes and several old notebooks and looked at the bottom of the mattress.

There.

A box wrapped in brown paper.

She grabbed it and scooted out, sitting up to look at it.

The box said ‘Grade-School: Awards, Ribbons & Mementos.’ Graysie scrunched her eyebrows together. What the heck did she want with those? Did her dad think her childhood accomplishments would inspire and encourage her to get home? What the heck, Dad?

She ripped the paper off anyway. When she lifted the lid, her eyes widened. It was her dad’s favorite pistol—a Smith & Wesson .38 Special—and two full speed-loaders with fifty rounds of ammo each, and another full box of ammo. She’d shot with this gun many times and had begged him to bring it to school—just in case. But he’d always told her no.

It’s been here all along?

She could just about squeal with excitement, but she kept it to herself. Since the power had gone out, and there was no background noises, she could hear conversations all the way down the hall, behind closed doors. That meant they could hear her too. And no doubt, she was probably the only kid in the college with a lethal weapon, and many would probably try to take it from her.

She climbed onto the bed and slid the pistol and ammo under her pillow. She picked up the letter again and continued reading.

I know your first instinct is to want to come home the same way you would if you were driving. I don’t know what the scenario is right now, but regardless, if there is an emergency, the interstate route isn’t the way to come. It will be gridlocked. You could take Hwy. 29. It’s back roads and rural. You’d still get here in nearly the same time, unless you’re stuck in traffic. Bottom line, it’s safer than the interstate and same drive-time.

If you’re walking, don’t take the highways or the interstate. It’s not safe for you! Walking will take you much, much longer to get home than the normal one hour drive. You’ll find a compass in this bag, with instructions. Read the instructions before you leave. If you don’t understand how to use it, you may finally realize that daddy was right. Should have listened. But since you didn’t, find yourself a nice boy scout to help you. You’ll be following the compass through the woods. You’ll have to cross roads and highways. Be alert! Hide until you know the coast is clear. Cross quickly and get back under cover. See the map. I marked that route for you.

I know you can do this, Graysie. I’m so proud of you, and I love you. Whenever you’ve set your mind to something in the past, it’s been Katie, bar the door. So set your mind to this, and get your ass in gear.