Journal (15 page)

It
did cross my mind to just stay where we were until daylight, but there was
still a good two or three hours of travel time left and we were the Author

As
I walked west, I just couldn’t find a place where we could safely cross the
water.  But I did notice that the terrain was starting to flatten out.  The canyon
walls were dropping and the ground was showing fewer boulders and more gravel
and small rock.  This told me that we were likely nearing a place where this
stream intersected a river.  I figured that as the stream spread out because
the ground flattened out, it would be easier to ford.  I wish I had known this
before I took us down into that canyon.

I
went back and told Anna and Gabriel of my theory, and we started out in that
direction.  About forty-five minutes later, the theory proved out, and we came
to the larger river.  Using a long sturdy branch as a rope, with me at one end,
Anna at the other, and Gabriel in the middle holding it with his good hand, we
were able to get across the stream without much more than the bottom of our
pants legs getting wet.  And it still left us maybe another hour or two of
travel time before it got light.

So
we struck off going south again, on the eastside of the larger river.  In fact,
we pretty much followed the river because the elevation was flat to slightly
downhill, which made travel easier.  Within twenty minutes of walking, we were
skirting the western edge of a big orchard, and ten minutes after that we could
see, even in the darkness, what looked like yet another orchard on the west
side of the river.

At
one point, Anna came up next to me and touched my arm.  I was learning that
Anna was quite the toucher, despite my earlier impression that she was a
poker.  You know, I guess I should lighten up on her a little bit.  As I’ve
more than hinted, I’ve sensed a personal, emotional connection between us that
goes unspoken.  It’s not something that I’ve encouraged, and I don’t think she
has either.  It’s something that’s just happened all on its own; I guess you
could say despite our best efforts to prevent it, and in that sense, making it
a fragile thing.  There I go again.  This isn’t going anywhere, so I better just
get back to the story.

After
getting my attention, she pointed to a part of the river where it flowed around
an island of gravel and rock, about thirty feet long.  There, partially resting
on dry land, was the face down body of what appeared to be an adult man.  His
chest, head, and shoulders were fully out of the water, but his legs were
bobbing up and down in the current, doing a kind of macabre, dead man’s dance I
suppose you could say.  My guess is that he had washed downstream from
Turnbull.  Maybe he was one of those killed in Michael Bass’s party.  Or maybe
not; there is a lot of killing going on.  As we continued on our way, this
caused me to periodically scan the water for other bodies.  I didn’t see any, although
that doesn’t mean they weren’t there.

Eventually
we reached a point where the ground rose up creating a canyon through which the
river ran.  What this meant to us was that we had to cut inland to continue our
trek.  There was nowhere to walk close-up to the river.

Also
at this point, I took notice of a significant bed of cattails growing alongI was telling the truth.tif the
riverbank.  After a short inspection, I pulled a dozen or so young plants
showing about two feet above the water line, stripped off some of their outer
leafs and threw them in my pack.  Gabriel wandered over and watched me.  I
showed him what I was doing and showed him how to identify the newer shoots.  Added
to the last of our meat, it would make a more nourishing meal when cooked in a
broth.

As
we detoured away from the water, not more than two hundred yards east, we
discovered that all along we had been walking parallel to what used to be a
road.  We hadn’t been able to see it because of the dark and because it was
slightly elevated from the river.  It was two lanes wide and heavily blemished
with potholes and fissures.  We crossed over it in a rush and turned south,
still not trusting the easy route because of those who may be watching it.

About
a mile later, we encountered yet another orchard and, from what I could tell, a
big one.  We decided to shelter there for at least a few hours so we could get
some sleep.  We walked into the heart of it, to a place where we felt fairly
safe from view.

While
I got a small fire going, Anna tended to Gabriel.  She removed the sling and
had him gently move the shoulder joint.  She also used a small amount of water
to wash his injured face.  He was in less pain than right after the accident
happened, but he still hurt quite a bit.  No doubt the traveling we did
aggravated things.  I felt bad for him, but he didn’t complain at all.

After
we ate and put the fire out, we just tromped down the weeds and laid our
ponchos over them to sleep on.  I agreed to take the first watch.  Before Anna
went to sleep, I told her that I would soon need to know where we were going and
with more specificity than just, “South, toward Oregon.”  She assured me that
we’d talk about it soon.

We
were up by mid-day, still on April 10
^th
, and still the date of this
writing.  There wasn’t anything to eat so it didn’t take us long to get ready
to travel.  While Anna got Gabriel all strapped up, I unfolded the map.  There
was light to read it now, even under the dense canopy of the trees, so I
thought I’d see if I could figure out where we were.  I also figured it was a
good time to get a more accurate destination from Anna.

Looking
at the map, I could see that the river we had walked along last night was east
of and parallel to Highway 97.  I was able to find the canyon where Gabriel
took his fall and followed the stream at the bottom of it until it intersected
the river.  Estimating that we walked for maybe two hours at most along the
river, and that we travel at a rate of between two and three miles per hour,
meant we were approximately five miles from the intersection.  It also meant we
were about ten miles from the next town, Sheep Rock, Washington.

About
that point, Anna had finished strapping up Gabriel, so I called her over and
explained where we were.  I then asked her to tell me where we were headed.

Whenever
anyone starts out with an explanation after being asked a question, you know
you’re not going to get the answer you want.  And that’s what she did.  She
asked me to be understanding of her situation.  She said that she took an oath
no our enemies wott to reveal the whereabouts of the town to anyone.  She explained that if I
were to be captured and tortured, I could reveal it to people who would do
harm.

For
my part, I argued that Mr. Ponytail already knew where the town was so I
wouldn’t know anything they didn’t already know.  I also argued that if
something happened to her or her and Gabriel, how would I be able to warn the
town of the impending raid?  She acknowledged that those were good points but
said I would just have to wait a little longer.  She made the comment there was
still time before we would need to change direction.

I
didn’t say anything further.  Instead I just folded up the map and put it away
in my pack.  To myself, I promised to give her only two more days.  After that,
if she still didn’t trust me, I’d just tell her that we should go our separate
ways.

We
started out east, with me in the lead.  I was looking for the eastern edge of
the orchard.  I didn’t want to travel on the west side of it because we’d be
within sight of the road we crossed a few hours earlier, in the dark.  What I
found was even better.  It was a north-south dirt and gravel service road that
split the orchard in half.  Though it was overgrown with weeds and brush, we
wouldn’t have any trees or tree branches to contend with, and we would be
hidden from view.  I turned south at that point.

About
twenty minutes into the walk, I heard distant voices.  It sounded less
conversational and more like angry shouting.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t tell
what direction they were coming from.  We looked at one another with this
expression of ‘now what’ on our faces, and readied our weapons.  This included Gabriel,
who held a pistol in his good hand.

No
less than five minutes later, I heard more shouting, a woman scream “No,” and
several shots being fired.  They were definitely coming from the direction of
the road — west.

What
I did next is something completely out of character for me, and I don’t know
why I did it, other than maybe anger over the death of Michael Bass.  I told you
it changed me.  I turned west and started to run.  I didn’t even look to see if
Anna and Gabriel were behind me.  I just dodged my way through the orchard, the
weeds soaking my legs.  I think I heard another scream while I was doing all
that, too.

It
took me maybe four or five minutes to reach the western edge of the orchard and
that’s where I slowed down and finally stopped.  From the concealment of the
trees, while I was catching my breath, I looked out toward the road about
seventy-five feet away and south another forty or fifty feet.  What I saw filled
me with rage.  It was as if someone twisted my head off and poured it down my
neck until it overflowed and puddle around my feet.  At that moment, I knew I
would kill.  I was sure of it.  What I didn’t know was how much pleasure I
would take in it.

There
were three people lying on the ground, two people standing, and one other guy just
getting up and pulling up his pants.  All the ones standing were men.  It was
hard to tell the sex of the people on the ground, but I assumed one of them,
the one lying at the feet of the man who just stood up, was a woman, and she
was moving a bit. emotional connection he fsep

These
men were also all armed.  One of them was holding a military style rifle of
some sort while another had a machete in hand.  The third one, the one who had
just regained his feet and buttoned his pants, pulled a pistol from his coat pocket.

The
three stood there and talked for a little bit.  It wasn’t long because this
part of the event I’m now describing, took less than a minute total.  Of course
I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but whatever it was, it caused all of
them to laugh.  Right in the middle of all this conversation and laughter, the
man with the pistol almost casually raised it and fired into the woman on the
ground.

The
instant after the shot was fired, I heard a noise behind me and saw Gabriel and
Anna come up in a crouch.  I dropped my pack and told them to stay there and if
things didn’t go well for me and I was killed or injured, they should go back
the way they came.  I didn’t give them a chance to ask questions or tell me I
was making a mistake.  I just turned toward the road, got on my hands and knees
and moved closer.  To be honest with you, I don’t think the men would have seen
me if I had been standing straight up and whistling the “Star Spangled Banner.” 
They were too busy running their mouths and going through the pockets of the
dead to take notice of anything around them.  But still, I crawled.

By
the time I reached the road, I could tell the three men were finished with
their looting; first stealing another’s life and then stealing his belongings,
too.  I settled down next to a large bush in a prone position, with my rifle
pointing out from under the branches.  I cocked the hammer and took the safety
off; 158 grains of death pointed downrange, ready to go.

I
watched as the one with the machete showed one of the others something he had
found on the woman, something small, heard them laugh, and watched them slap
high-fives.  After that, they started my way.

My
hands were shaking at this point but it wasn’t out of fear.  I was just plain
pissed off.  In fact, other than after shooting Michael Bass, I’ve never been
that angry in my entire life.  It was like a hum was running through my entire
body.  I even imagined I could hear it.  I hated these men for everything they
had done to these three people, for what had been done to Michael Bass, for
everything that had been done to us.  They became my focus for everything evil.

As
the three of them reached a point about thirty feet away, I shot the one
carrying the assault rifle, square in the chest.  He stood there for a couple
of seconds looking down at the hole and the blood, took a stagger step back,
and fell to his butt on the ground.  The suddenness of my shot stunned the other
two long enough that I was able to lever another round and shoot the one with
the pistol, in the forehead.  He dropped next to the first, who toppled over alongside
him.  With two of them on the ground, I stood up and pointed my rifle at the
one with the machete, which he dropped.  As he did that, I held my hand up
toward Anna to let her know I didn’t want her to shoot.  I next quickly closed
the distance to the one still standing.  I felt incredibly powerful at that
moment.  I also felt utterly without conscience.

As
I for an hour or sotifgot close to him, I told him to drop to his knees and put his hands on top of
his head, which he did without a moment of hesitation.

He
begged for his life, and I loathed him for it.  There wasn’t a prick of
sympathy for him in my body.  With tears running down his face, he asked me not
to kill him.  He said he would do anything.  He said he offered me no harm.  He
said that the other two were the ones who killed the people.  He said he was
too afraid to stop them.  He said he wouldn’t tell anyone he saw me.  He went
on and on and on until I slapped him across the face and told him to shut up.