Rise Once More (13 page)

“Isn't that amazing?” Amy says.

“
What?” Haus asks as he chews on his slice of jerky.

“
The way the heat makes it look like there's water on the road. I bet it drives people insane when they run out of water.” Amy says.

“
That's going to be us in a few hours. This is the last bottle of water. We have to make a decision here. We can stick with the road and slowly get baked to death, or we can walk into the fields. It will be cooler in the fields; we can eat some corn along the way, and hopefully not get lost.”

“
You can't eat that corn.” Amy says.

“
I eat corn all the time. I think it is a good plan.” Haus says.

“
You must be from the city, Mr Survival Expert. That is field corn, not sweet corn, very big difference. It looks like corn, but it is not the corn you buy at the store. It is for feeding to animals not humans. You can't even digest it, without grinding it, and it tastes terrible.” Amy says with an air of confidence. “If you want to escape the heat, let's walk in the burrow ditch, but we need to stick to the road and hope we find something to scavenge.”

“
Are you sure?” Haus asks.

Amy walks down to the first row of the field, leans over, and removes one corn ear. She husks the corn, folding it back, and snapping it at the base of the stem. A series of movements with her hands, that appears to be of second nature. She hands the fresh cob over to Haus. “Take a taste. I have done this a time or two. You don't name a popular football team after it for nothin'.”

Haus takes a bite, chewing slightly, and a repulsive look crosses his face. “You're right this tastes like shit.” He says as he tosses the cob to the ground. His pride took a small hit, but he realizes that he now has a valuable companion to compliment their journey together. A newly found respect  for Amy starts to take a firm rooting in his psyche. Amy smiles, a quick wink towards Haus and a giggle escapes her lips.

“
A country girl can survive.” She says walking away. A deliberately slow pace, as she motions with her hand for Haus to follow.

Chapter Fifteen

Bad Flap Jacks

The sun hung low in the horizon, shrinking into the western sky. Amy and Haus have been walking all day, and with little reserves left the situation is looking worse by the hour. The water was gone, but they still had a few small pieces of jerky left and the label-less mystery can.

“It's going to be dark soon.” Amy says.

“
Well at least it will be cooler out here. We need to find water.” Haus says.

“
We just might be in luck! Look at that sign up ahead.” Amy says as she starts to jog forward excitedly, filled with a second wind of energy. The source of this new found vigor leaves Haus confused. He stands still, wondering if she had officially lost her fragile mind. After a few moments his resistance is stamped out, and he rushes to catch up with her.

His feet were sore, he was thirsty, and not in a mood to play games. His stomach growls to remind him that it has been a while since it was given nourishment, and some cramping signals that dehydration is starting to set in. He joins Amy as she looks back at him, her face lit up with a large smile.

“Why are you so excited?” Haus asks.

“
Well duh, just look at the sign.” Amy says pointing upwards, but Haus raises an eyebrow in disapproval. He examines the sign carefully looking for something of importance painted upon it.
Little Siddy Recreation Area
. He recognizes the square with a gas pump inside it,  but the others he does not understand.

His mind grows more impatient, and his critical thinking skills suffer. The only thing on his mind is the search for water. “We don't have a car Eve, so what good does gas do us?” He says hastily. After the words had left his mouth, he was able to digest them, and a thought crossed his mind.
Eve.
That was the first time in quite a while he had said her name.

“
Who's Eve?” Amy asks.

Haus froze, unsure of what to say next, so he remained silent and rubbed his forehead. Memories rushed forward inside his mind, as it occurs to him, that he hasn't thought about her in a long time as well. The urge to survive had blocked her out somehow, cast aside like an unwanted toy, something to worry about at another time.

That was the worst possible thing I could have said. What the hell was I thinking? Wait a minute... I wasn't thinking. Now she is going to want an explanation, and I don't have time to fuck around. Focus dammit! We need water, not drama, just some damn water. Think Haus!

“
Who is Eve?” Amy asks again, her hand resting on his shoulder, ducking slightly under his arm, and tilting her head to make eye contact with him. She mentally braces herself for his answer. Had she re-opened a partially healed wound, spoken the name of a loved one, recently lost much like his friend Dr. Cox. It was out of instinct that she had asked, she hadn't meant to stir up painful emotions, and regretted asking. It was hard enough to see him suffer for hours back at the car crash, he had already endured enough and now she had made it worse once again.

“
I'm sorry. I'm being nosy.” She says sheepishly, her hand withdrawn to her side. “We have both lost so much, I was just caught up in the moment, and if you don't wanna talk about it. That's fine, I can respect that.”

Haus bites his lip, and stands up straight, looking directly at her. “My sister...” The words rolled off his tongue, some inner force put them there, as he knew subconsciously that it was fabricated. As if he was at war with himself, his mind betraying his soul, and the tongue a guilty accomplice of the crime.
I can't even trust myself, what the hell is going on here?

“
Oh god! Now I feel like an ass. I am so sorry!” Amy says as she lunges forward embracing him in a bear hug. Haus wasn't anticipating her actions, at first stood rigid, and unresponsive. Her grip took hold of his body, firm at first, but finding no response only caused her to cling tighter, the pressure increasing until he lifted his arms and embraced her back.

Her breasts pressed into his chest, he could feel every contour of her young body, and her hardened nipples answered the very question he had pondered before the accident.
Medium... Round...
His mind drifts back to when he was wishing for just another bump in the road. Then his mind is filled with the images of Cox's crushed skull, and he pushes Amy away.

“
I can't do this.” He says apologetically.

“
It's okay! I totally understand. I'm sorry for your loss.” Amy says.

“
I am sorry too. I'm thirsty, I'm hungry, and I'm bitchy. Please explain to me why you are so excited about this fucking sign.” Haus says angrily, more angry at himself than anything, insulted that the treason committed was done by his own mind, against his wishes, and the mutineers were of the majority.

“
Well. We have gas, fishing, and camping just ahead! That means freshwater, maybe a store, and a lake to catch some fish. Food, Shelter, and Water. What else can you ask for? I think it is a sign.” Amy says.

Haus looks back at the sign.
3.7 miles. Are you fucking kidding me? In 3.7 miles I could die.
“3.7 miles, and it's almost dark. That will take an hour easily, assuming we know where to go.”

“
I know how to fish.” Amy says.

“
Where is your fishing pole?” Haus asks.

“
Don't need one. I can noodle.” Amy says.

“
Noodle?” Haus says confused.

“
Noodlin'. You never heard of it?” Amy says.

“
I am drawing a blank here.” Haus says.

“
Lets get walking, and I will explain as we go.” Haus follows behind Amy, listening attentively to her words at first, but his mind begins to wander. He tries to hear what she has to say, something has caught his attention, and he can't shake free from it. He can't help but admire her; her strength, common sense, and most of all her upbeat approach to challenges.

“
That is how we do it.” Amy says victoriously.

“
Do what?” Haus says, clearly not paying attention.

“
Noodlin'” Amy says.

“
I can noodle all night.” Haus says.

“
You didn't hear a word I said did you?” Amy swats Haus's shoulder to grab his attention. “I can teach you later, we're here.” She says taking in a deep breathe through her nose. The smell of warm pond water might repulse some, but for her it was true bliss. The scent triggers a million neurons inside her brain, each one connected to loved memory, and she exhales quickly. “There are tons of Catfish in this lake. I can smell 'em.” Amy says.

A calm breeze wafts about them, surrounded by darkness, and over grown vegetation. “I am glad you can smell them, because I can barely see a thing.” The moon had barely formed a waxing crescent that evening, and the light wasn't sufficient to see clearly.

“Too bad tonight wasn't a new or full moon.” Amy says.

“
A full moon would be nice, at least we could see what is around us. I don't like being this out in the open, makes me uncomfortable.” Haus says.

Amy places her hand to her ear, cocking her head slightly, and turns in a complete circle. “I don't hear anything but frogs.” She says playfully, her attitude had changed since they arrived at the lake. She seemed calm, yet excited, even a bit too relaxed. As if just being near the water made her feel at home.

The humidity was low, the night sky was filled with stars, and the cloud of the milky way was directly over head. Fire flies dance around the brush, a faint outline of the lake ahead of them, they were standing just a few feet from the bank.

Amy spots a clearing in the weeds, a few yards away, near a thick line of trees. She walks slowly towards the water's edge, her eyes fixed on the cresting small waves crashing into the beach. She stops suddenly, her body becoming rigid like a stone effigy.

Haus's apprehension about coming here seemed to be correct, and he retrieved the shotgun from his bag. Careful not to make much noise, he pulls the forearm of the shotgun back halfway, confirming it was loaded, he slides it forward.
Click.

Amy motions in the night air for Haus to move forward, the shotgun ready for anything that might pierce the darkness. Amy points into trees, she kneels down to the ground, and whispers in a hushed tone. “Do you see that light over there?”

Haus sees nothing at first, and repositions himself directly in front Amy. His eyes focused at the end of the barrel, detect a faint glow of light, hidden mostly by the thick foliage of the trees. Too weak to be a camp fire, too yellow in color to be a flashlight, it had to be an artificial light source. From this position he couldn't be sure, and decides to leave Amy behind while he investigates.

“
Stay here. I will check it out. Take the bag, if anything happens, just run like hell and don't look back.” Haus says in a hushed whisper, placing the bag at her feet, the shotgun still rose into a firing position.

“
You're not leaving me here alone. We both go.” Amy says sternly. Haus annoyed by her overly-confident bravado, lowers the shotgun, turning to face her. She is standing behind him, fully upright, one hand on her hips, and the other holding the bag. One of her eyebrows were raised with an unimpressed look upon her face. “Don't pull the hero crap with me.” Amy says.

Haus looks at her dumbfounded, impressed with her resilience, but angry that she would so easily defy him. The plan made sense to him; he would forge ahead, armed if something were to happen, if he got over taken she could at least survive. It seemed like a selfless act, and limited the chances of losses. She obviously would have none of it, and was insistent on hedging everything on a chance.

“Fine we both go, but at least stay behind me.” Haus says his voice no longer a whisper, but still quietly below normal talking. He draws the shotgun back up, rising to his feet, and advances in a slow deliberate pace while stepping lightly, one foot in front of the other trying to be as covert as possible.

After a few feet he pauses, listening to the sounds around him, finding nothing he pushes forward. The light becomes more evident with each step, again confirming his suspicions. It was an artificial light source, but from what he still cannot tell.

He places another foot in front of him, but a tree blocks his direct path. He steps to the right, and his foot lands on a dry twig. The snapping noise resonates around them, the sound waves bouncing of each tree, announcing their presence to everything in the area.
Shit!
He thinks to himself, as he stands frozen, afraid that any other sound might alert an unwelcome guest.

He places his full weight onto his foot, this time there is no sound, and he advances a little further, yet another foot step, ever closer to the light, and an answer to what was the source. Amy is within an arm's reach directly behind him, her pulse starting to race, she places her foot down.
SNAP.

The two of them hold perfectly still. The same branch that had betrayed him, had exposed her as well, both of their hearts are racing. Silence hangs in the air, for a few moments, they stand there frozen, expecting that at any time their decisions would come back to haunt them.

Amy reaches out, and grips Haus's free hand. Not as a means to steady herself physically, but to balance herself mentally. The warmth of his hand locked with hers was comforting, the fact he wasn't shaking calmed her fears, and she felt as if she could trust him. She could hold her own, but at times like this even her foundations start to crumble.

Haus releases her hand, raising his index finger up, motioning for her to stay put. His eyes lock with hers, and she can tell now is not a time for acts of defiance. She complies, leaning with her back against the tree, her arms wrapped around the trunk for support. Haus raises the shotgun to the firing position and walks forward.

His gate is steady, filled with confidence, and for the first time the brush gives way. Haus walks into a small clearing in the trees; the source of the light is directly in front of him, no longer camouflaged by dense foliage.

A 70's era pickup truck, rusting in spots, but showing signs that it has had a long and well cared for life. Resting in the back of the truck was a box over camper, the curtains drawn shut, windows open, and door closed. Light seeped out from gaps, radiating outward, with a homely glow. The sound of an FM radio hummed into the open air, once broadcasting music, it was eerily silent, and static is all it produced.

A few feet from the door, there were several logs; all cut to form make shift chairs, surrounding a fire pit. The fire had long since died out, as not a single whiff of smoke emanated from the ashes. Haus scans the area, looking for any movements, but found nothing but the sound of static.

He positions himself to the side of the door, his back against the metal siding, and with his remaining hand twists the door handle. He thrusts the door open, stepping back and to the side, while raising the shotgun to his shoulder. He waits for someone or something to rush outside, a few moments pass, and he is greeted with nothing but the radio static.