Alone, Book 3: The Journey (10 page)

     “But… if you are honest men like you claim to be, then you’ll respect my property just like I’ve respected yours. You’ll let me go in peace.”

     Dakota surprised Dave by extending his hand.

     “Well, friend. We are indeed honest men. And we will let you leave with everything you brought with you, save the bag of rabbit jerky you gave me. And thank you for that, by the way. Before you leave, though, would you tell us if it’s possible to get any of our own vehicles running?”

Chapter 19

      Dave could have lied to the cowboys. Filled their heads with dreams so they’d be more apt to let him keep his Explorer and go unscathed.

     But Dave wasn’t that way. He hadn’t lied very many times in his life, and he hadn’t done it often enough to be any good at it.

     They’d have seen right through him.

     “I can’t promise you anything. But I’ve always had a theory that perhaps some of the parts on the shelves in parts stores may have survived the electromagnet waves. I have a clock that was lying on my daughter’s dresser on the day of the blackout. It wasn’t plugged in, because the alarm was broken and we got her a new one.

     “On a whim, I plugged it into my generator, and was amazed to find out it still works. It loses about ten minutes a day, but for the most part it still ran.

     “I also had a floor lamp in my attic that still worked. So that made me wonder. If some things survived because they weren’t connected to a power source at the time of the blackout, and therefore escaped the massive power surge that the EMPS created, wouldn’t the same apply to automobile parts that weren’t connected to a car?”

     The only one of the three who knew anything about cars was Shadow, who nodded his head and said, “Stands to reason.”

     Dakota scratched his chin. Stan’s face was not unlike a deer staring at a car’s headlights.

     Dave went on.

     “The key, of course, is the battery. It is, in essence, its own electrical system. Therefore, any battery that contained acid at the time of the blackout is shot and cannot be repaired.

     “If you have any chance of bringing any of your vehicles back to life, you’ve got to find batteries that are still dry. Then you have to find the acid to put in them.”

     Shadow looked at him and asked, “Where in heck do we find batteries like that?”

     “Look at tractor dealers, or farm implement companies. When the government mandated sealed batteries for passenger vehicles, the agricultural lobby got an exemption for farm equipment. They still make the old fashioned kind of batteries, where you can pop the tops off and add water occasionally. But they only sell them for industrial vehicles and farm equipment.

     “If you can find such batteries, that’s what you need. They were sold dry. They weren’t activated until they were sold, and then the dealer put acid and water in them. Since they’re still sitting on the shelf and still dry, the EMP wouldn’t have had any affect on them.

     “Find those batteries and you have a chance at getting your vehicles running again.

     “Then go to an auto parts store. Buy new parts to replace your entire electrical system. Or, bypass your fuse box like I did and just connect the basics. My lights and radio don’t work, but I don’t care. It’ll get me to Kansas City and back, and that’s all I care about.”

     Dakota looked at Shadow.

     “Does what he’s saying make sense to you?”

     Shadow thought hard, but couldn’t see any holes in Dave’s theory.

     “You mean if I replace the electronic ignition, the fuel injection system, the battery and the starter, it’ll work?”

     “I’d replace the solenoid too. In fact, the starter may be okay if the solenoid fried first and the surge never got to the starter. Also, the alternator or generator.”

     Shadow looked at Dakota.

     “Hell, I think he’s onto something.”

     Dakota stated the obvious.

     “Well, no shit, Sherlock. He got his own vehicle running. What I want to know, is if we send you and a couple of saddlebags into town, can you bring the parts back and do the same?”

     Shadow swallowed hard.

     He hated to commit himself to a result he wasn’t sure of.

     But, on the other hand, he was a cowboy.

     And a cowboy’s life was, after all, full of risks.

     “If a city slicker can do it, I can too.”

     Then he turned to Dave and asked him, “Anything else I need to do after I get it all put back together?”

     “Yep,” Dave said with a slight grin.

     “Pray.”

Chapter 20

     Dakota put the lid back on the jar of provisions and returned it to the back seat of the Explorer.

     Then he went back to Dave and shook his hand again.

     “Do you expect to come this way again?”

     “I don’t know. Maybe. If I-35 is still blocked I’ll have to bypass it again. This appears to be the best way to do that.”

     “How long before you figure you’ll be back?”

     “I honestly don’t know. If I can keep my vehicle running and keep anyone from taking it, it might be as soon as a week or two. If I have to go on foot, and if we have to return on foot, it could be early summer.”

     “Well, I wish you well. If you do come back this way, stop on the bridge to Screaming Woman Creek and fire two shots. We’ll come running to say hello.”

     “It’s funny you should mention that. I saw the sign that said, ‘Screaming Woman Creek: 1 Mile.’ There’s got to be a story behind the name.”

     “This used to be Indian Territory. Apaches, mostly. The story goes that a long time ago, a brave went out on a war party and never came back. His squaw cried in sorrow, and to this day you can still hear her wailing on a windy day.”

     “Interesting.”

     “Of course, some say it’s just the way the valley interacts with the winds, whipping through the mesquite trees. But me, I’d rather believe the legend. Despite all of our so-called ‘progress’ since the wild west days, I still believe this part of the country has its own magic. And as long as those old stories live on, the old west will too.”

     “I agree. And if I come back this way with my family, we’ll definitely stop to say hello.”

     Shadow never got off his horse, but leaned down to shake Dave’s hand.

     Stan handed back Dave’s loaded handgun, butt first. Dave had won his trust. As Stan mounted up he said, “Good luck to you, partner. I don’t like your odds. But I hope you make it.”

     “Thank you.”

     A few minutes later Dave was back behind the wheel, cruising once again at fifteen miles an hour. He was still just a bit shaken by the whole ordeal. It’s not a pleasant thing for a man to have loaded weapons pointed at him.

     But at the same time, his faith that the nation would continue to recover from the blackout was renewed.

     Somehow, just knowing there were still men like Dakota, Shadow and Stan around, still riding fences the old way, still protecting their cattle, made him proud to be a Texan.

     But for now he couldn’t dwell on that. He had a mission. And he had to focus. He’d let his guard down once and was stopped dead in his tracks. He couldn’t let it happen again.

     He pressed on, changing roads a couple of times and having to briefly stop and make sure he wasn’t getting himself lost.

     And he got better at reading the horizon. The tree line was a couple of shades darker than the night sky beyond it. Once he figured that out, he could glance up from the road every few seconds.

     If he saw a break dead ahead in the slightly darker tree line, where the highway cut through it, he knew that the road was straight for half a mile or so.

     No break meant there was a curve ahead.

     Once he figured that out, he was able to speed up a bit.

     Hopefully enough to outrun any other cowboys, or marauders, on horseback.

     Granted, it was a small thing. But it was a combination of small things he’d learned over the past couple of years that had kept him alive this long.

     He also noticed that there were far fewer abandoned cars on the road. And no big rigs at all. Big rigs never used the smaller county roads and state highways. They slowed them down, and they had deliveries to make.

     The absence of the trucks and the fewer cars allowed Dave to depress his accelerator even more.

     The last time he checked his map, he was only a few miles from Highway 281, and he had a full hour and a half before sunrise. He’d make it after all.

     Highway 281 would take him past Austin and allow him to reconnect with the I-35 later.

     Or, it would give him the option of following 281 all the way to the top of Texas, where he could switch to I-44 to cross into Oklahoma.

     He had a long way to go, but he’d make it. He had to.

Chapter 21

Hi, Babe.

     I’ve had a very long and interesting night. I had to backtrack to avoid a FEMA roadblock, I had guns pointed at me, and I heard a legend about an old Apache squaw who still haunts this part of Texas.

     And I’ve learned some things, too.

     I’ve learned how vulnerable I am driving at such low speeds.

     I’ve learned that real, old fashioned cowboys still exist, and that they haven’t changed much since the days of the old west.

     I’ve learned that there are other good people out there who are not out to take from others or kill for the sake of killing. They, like us, are content to survive, and to protect what’s theirs.

     I’ve had a minor setback, and I’m not where I wanted to be at this time. But I’m still moving, and that’s a good thing.

     In the Corps, they’re big on making adjustments as a campaign progresses. They say that the Army accepts things as they are. The Air Force flies their planes and drops their bombs. The Navy’s on shore leave. The United States Marine Corps evaluates, adapts and overcomes. I don’t know how many times I heard Gunny Gonzales say those words.

     Well, apparently I’ve learned. I’ve evaluated the situation, and I’m steering away from the interstate highways for the rest of the trip. If I have to detour to the secondary highways in every city of any size, then I might as well just stay off the interstate altogether. I-35 goes through Fort Worth, then Denton, then Gainesville, then Oklahoma City.

     Screw that. I put the second cache at Mile Marker 350 on Highway 281. I put a checkmark on the map to remind you if I don’t make it.

     I don’t know if I told you already, but I continue to be haunted by my dream of Lindsey. Try as I might, I can’t for the life of me figure out why she would come to me and tell me to take care of the rabbits. The only thing I can think of is that she didn’t make it, and she’s trying to watch out for me.

     I’m a big believer that our loved ones watch over us after their passing. You know that I used to have visions of my grandmother long after she died. And that sometimes she warned me about things. It was her who told me not to go out with my friends that night when they crashed into a tree and Davey died. Everybody thought I was crazy when I told them my dead grandmother saved my life that night. But I’ve always believed that.

     It was also Granny who told me to give you a second chance, that night we had a big fight and broke up. I didn’t understand why. But I think she somehow knew we were destined to be together. That’s why I never dated anyone else during those few months. Instead, I waited for you to see the same thing.