Nathan Jones: Shortage

Trev nodded. “Believe me, I get it. If you doubt you took those shots for the right reasons or think they were unjustified I think you’re wrong on both counts. It was the right move.”

His cousin let out his breath slowly, although he seemed less troubled. They were both silent for about a minute before Trev finally stirred. “They were good shots, and I’m glad you were in a state of mind to make them.”

“Thanks.” Lewis turned to look east, towards the highway. “You need to go.”

“What?” Trev asked, blinking.

“Our family up in Michigan needs you as much as the town does, and they’re family. You need to go help them.”

Trev sighed. “This again?” Matt had been on his case going too, feeling guilty about keeping him there when his family needed him.

“I mean it. I think we both agree that one of us needs to stay here to help defend the town, and that’s probably me since I’m already involved in the fight and need to finish what I started. But if you’re going you need to go now. Matt’s right that with every day these raiders will close the net tighter and tighter around the town, making it harder to leave. You really should’ve left already.” His cousin caught his eye. “You still plan to go, right?”

Trev nodded without hesitation. “I have to. But it’s going to be harder without you.”

“Do you want me to go, then?” Lewis asked, sounding reluctant. “I did promise I would.”

“No, you’ve got the right reasons to stay, and I’d feel terrible if both of us ditched the town.” He sighed. “So I guess I’m going. What now?”

“Go get the better bike and your pack,” his cousin said. “I’ll keep this route clear for you until you get back.”

Nodding, Trev pulled Lewis into a fierce hug then melted out of the copse, moving quickly but carefully back towards town. An hour later he was bouncing awkwardly over bumpy ground on his bike while wearing his backpack and hauling a bit of cargo on the small rack above the back wheel.

In spite of the awkward balance he rode hard towards where Lewis had left him. The path they’d taken between hills was fairly well concealed, but visible as he was with the bike he had to favor speed over concealment. Still, he couldn’t help but feel an itch between his shoulder blades as if a bullet was about to embed itself there.

He didn’t see his cousin when he reached the copse, but he saw an arrow made of rocks pointing behind a nearby hill. Trev followed it, feeling a bit safer with the thought that Lewis was out there somewhere covering him with his G3. Behind the hill he saw another arrow pointing him due east towards the highway, and he followed that one as well.

A bit over ten minutes later he reached it, and after checking along it carefully for any sign of raider trucks he turned south towards Carbonville. The few conversations he and his cousin had had over the last few days had mostly focused on his route, and he’d agreed that his best bet was to take I-70 east almost to Grand Junction, then take smaller roads northeast across the Great Plains to Michigan. Luckily Lewis had been there to chart him a route that would keep him within arm’s reach of water and avoid population centers.

Biking took different leg muscles from walking or running, and Trev’s body started to complain after only a short while. But it was something he’d get used to along the trip. Just like he’d gotten used to everything else he’d had to do.

The important thing was he was going for his family, and it was his fervent hope that they’d be there when he arrived, safe and sound and ready to make the perilous, difficult journey back to Aspen Hill.

Which he hoped with equal fervency would still be there when he got back.

Copyright © 2015 Nathan Jones

All rights reserved.

The events depicted in this novel are fictional. The characters in this story are also fictional, and any resemblance to anyone living or dead is entirely unintentional. While most locations are real some creative license has been taken in describing them, and a few locations are entirely fictional.