Read The Grey Ones Page 15


  Chapter 12

  We all stare at the white wooden rowboat at his feet. It looks like it hasn’t been touched in a year. On the outside tall weeds have grown up the sides like ivy on an old home. Inside of the four-person boat cobwebs have spread across the sky blue interior. Luckily, beneath the cobwebs lies two white oars. We have everything we need for the boat right here.

  “Someone could see us.” Travis says in a tone of disapproval.

  “Yeah but it’ll be so much easier. Plus, if someone does see us we can jump in the water.” Billy replies quickly.

  “It’s not smart.” Travis shifts his gaze from the boat to him.

  My feet ache painfully from all the walking lately. Boots are not the best shoes to spend every day walking in. Turning to Travis, I say, “Let’s take the boat. You’re worried about someone seeing us on the water, but the only people we’ve seen so far have been in our bunker and on the bridge. Maybe floating down the river is safer.”

  Travis presses his lips together as he thinks. When he looks at me, I do my best puppy eyes impression. A sigh escapes his mouth. “Okay. But we need to keep our eyes peeled for any viable threats.”

  Cool water seeps inside of my boot. Together, Travis and I pull the boat into the shallow river. My socks soak up the water quickly, becoming more and more uncomfortable by the second.

  Ty is the first to hop inside. He sits down in the back row and whistles for Cano to join him. Without hesitating, the big dog jumps in right beside him. His short tail wags gleefully as the boat rocks from side to side. The underside of the boat scrapes against the river’s floor when Billy steps in and takes a seat in front. A small smile has formed on his face as he clutches his backpack to his chest.

  The wooden exterior digs into my back as I push against it. Travis and I use our body weight to shove the boat further out until it’s no longer scraping against the ground. As it floats in the calm water, we take turns hopping inside.

  I plop down on the back row and rip off my boots. The drenched socks smack against the wood when I slip them off. Barefoot, I reach down and grab the oars from the bottom of the boat. My eyes scan the sides for somewhere to slide the oars - nothing. When Travis sits down on the wooden slat in front of me, I say, “There isn’t anywhere to hold these in place while rowing.” Passing him one of the short oars I continue, “So I’m going to help you.”

  With the strong gusts of wind blowing us, it’s a lot harder to row the boat than I had expected. Our attempt to go against the winds takes a toll on my sore body quickly. I ignore the burning in my back and arm muscles and keep going. As I struggle to find a system that works for me, Travis makes rowing seem easy. His oar glides through the water with minimal effort.

  After an hour, we finally reach an area surrounded by trees. The blockage prevents the strong gusts of wind from blowing through the gorge; bringing the water to a calm pace. My sore arms fall heavily into my lap, still holding onto the wooden oar. With our boat floating down the river, Travis and I begin strategizing.

  “When we go to meet the Guerrillas I want you to hide with Ty until I signal that everything is okay.” Travis says firmly.

  I shake my head and reply, “I’m not going to sit back and hide while you risk your life.”

  “Yes, you will. Our son needs you.”

  “And he needs you too. We have a better chance of coming out of this alive if we fight together. Isn’t that the whole purpose of us looking for other survivors? To band together and fight?”

  “Yes, but…”

  “No Travis. We do this together or we don’t do it at all.”

  “What’re you guys talking about?” Billy asks from the front of the boat.

  “We’re strategizing for when we meet the Guerrillas.”

  “We are still going to meet them, right?” Billy asks with a tone of urgency. When I raise my eyebrow, he catches my confused expression and continues, “My family could be with them.”

  “Mom, look! That fish is ginormous!” Ty yells. He hops to his feet excitedly, causing the boat to rock from side to side.

  Less than a foot below the green water, a white sturgeon swims past. At almost three feet in length its fat body looks heavier than Ty’s. The last time we had fresh fish was before the invasion. The river was considered a high risk in the beginning. There was too high of a possibility of running into viable threats, so we avoided it like the plague. Now all I can think about is roasting the fish over an open fire. As I daydream about the delicious taste, my mouth begins to water.

  As the sturgeon disappears beneath the calm water, I get the sudden urge to chase after it. I toss the oar on the floor of the rocking boat and grab my boots. As I begin unwrapping a shoelace, Travis twists back and stares at me.

  “What are you doing?” He asks abruptly.

  While my fingertips continue to pull the black shoe string through the small loopholes, I reply, “I’m catching that fish.”

  “What, how?” He sets his oar down next to him and spins around all the way, bumping our knees together.

  Without responding, I pull the two bobby pins out of my blonde bun, releasing a couple of strands. All eyes on me, I twist and bend one of the metal pins until it forms a J shape. After repeating the same thing to the other one, I grab a shoelace from my lap. I slide the string through the holes and tie double knots. Only one thing left. Bait.

  My eyes search the boat until I find what I’m looking for. I snatch Travis’s backpack from in front of me and unzip the middle pocket. Underneath some of the supplies, I find an unopened can of Vienna sausages. The smell of beef stock creeps up my nostrils when I yank the tab open on the aluminum lid. Ripping one of the small sausages in half, I attach it to the make shift hook. After repeating the same thing with the other half of it I hand the can back to Ty.

  “Do you think this is actually going to work?” Billy sounds doubtful while he watches me cast both of the strings out into the dark water.

  “Yes. Now sh.” I reply. I wrap a string once around each hand.

  Almost immediately the string in my left hand tightens from something tugging at the other end. “Yes! It took the bait!” I say loudly, almost in disbelief.

  “Pull it in, pull it in!” Travis says, his voice raised with excitement.

  After passing the loose string in my right hand off to Travis I lean back. The tight string pulls from side to side while the fish tries to escape. Hand over hand, I pull the shoelace back into the boat revealing a white sturgeon biting on the end.

  I lean over the side of the boat and try to grab hold of the string near the fish’s puckered mouth. As it flops around frantically my fingers slip off the wet shoelace; causing me to lose my grip. I watch the black string disappear below the water in a matter of seconds.

  “No!” I yell.

  I dive head first into the river. My body propels through the water like a bullet. When I open my eyes, it’s hard to make out anything in the murky water. While I try to look around something bumps into my leg. Right below my feet, the black shoestring is being pulled further down.

  My fingers grab at the dagger from my thigh holster as I begin paddling deeper. The river water shoves my body around, making it difficult to chase after the giant fish. I bite the blade of the dagger and swim as hard as I can. Catching up to the sturgeon, I reach out for the black string. The moment my fingers get a grip on it, I yank the sturgeon backwards. It’s fat body thrashes from side to side as it struggles to get away. Before it can escape again, I drive my dagger into the scaly side. Blood flows into the water around the wound. Dragging my prize, I swim for the surface.

  “There she is!” Ty yells right when I reappear at the water’s surface.

  With the shoelace in hand, I pull the sturgeon through the water and back paddle towards the boat. I worry about losing it when the water pushes my body roughly, so I wrap the shoelace around my hand a couple of times. When I swim up to the side of the boat, I lift the string out of the water reve
aling the dead sturgeon attached.

  “Here, take this.” I say holding it upwards to Travis.

  “You did it!” Ty yells cheerfully at the sight of our next meal.

  Travis throws the fish inside the boat, then grabs both my arms. He lifts my body up and over the side in one swift motion. When my body begins to shiver from the breeze, he drapes his army coat over my shoulders. I take a seat in the back again and look up. The grey clouds have covered the sky. Not a ray of sunlight is visible.

  “Loo-Looks like it’s g-gonna rain,” When I dove after the fish I wasn’t thinking about how cold it would be. All I could think about was food. Even still, I don’t regret it.

  “Yeah, you’re right.” Travis says, looking up at the sky. He shifts his eyes back to me and continues, “Let’s get back on land. I’ll make a fire so you can warm yourself up and we can cook this fish.”

  We only have to row another ten minutes before coming to a small beach. After we pull the boat ashore, I immediately run behind a group of trees to undress out of my wet clothes. My backpack stirs up the dirt when it drops to the ground. I unzip the largest pocket and find the spare outfit. The camouflage pants should be able to help me blend in while I’m on watch tonight.

  I can hear Travis barking orders as I struggle to undress. In the process of yanking at the bottom of the pants, the tight jeans stick to my legs. I tug and pull until I’m completely naked. I use the warm black and orange hoodie to dry my wet skin, before dressing.

  The fire makes a crackling sound when I walk up to where Travis crouches down next to the open flame. With the intention of drying my wet clothes faster I lay each piece out on a log nearby. When I’m done I watch Travis help Ty prep the sturgeon. Back on land the white fish looks even bigger than it did in the water. There should be enough to feed all of us a good sized portion. My mouth begins to water again when I think about eating. I shift my focus away from the scaled fish and glance around the fire and realize that Billy isn’t here. And neither is his stuff.

  “Hey Travis,” I say quietly, “Where’s Billy?”

  Travis shifts his eyes around the camp. “I don’t know. He was sitting in the boat.”

  As the sound of light rain falls softly around us, we try to see around the bushes and trees that enclose our campground. “I’m going to check the perimeter.” Rifle in hand, he steps out into the trees with Cano following right behind him.

  When they disappear into the dense forest, I squat down in the boat to grab my wet boots and shoestrings. My fingers move rapidly while I loop the black shoestrings through each hole. Once they’re on and laced, I step closer to Ty. His hands scrub the sturgeon with water from a canteen, trying to get the blood cleaned off completely.

  I drop down onto my knees beside him. Completely focused on his task, he doesn’t react to my presence. “I’m going to help your dad search for Billy.”

  He doesn’t let my words distract him. Without stopping, he replies, “Okay.”

  “I’ll stay within shouting distance so if you need anything just call for me.”

  “Okay.” He replies with a monotone voice.

  “Okay.” I reply with a small smile. Armed with a dagger in my thigh holster, I walk around the campground - peeking around the trees. There’s no sign of Travis, or Billy.

  I hesitate to step further away from the campground. Looking back at Ty, I watch as he uses the pocket knife he got from Christmas to cut off the tail. I’ll only be gone for a couple of minutes. Twigs snap under my combat boots when I turn around and move deeper into the woods, further away from Ty. The rain patters softly on the tree branches. Small droplets make it through the treetops, landing on my already wet hair.

  “Travis? Billy?” I whisper loudly.

  No answer.

  I move deeper into the trees. As my eyes search around the trees and bushes, I call out a little louder, “Travis? Billy? Where are you guys?"

  Still no answer.

  When I look back over my shoulder I realize that I can’t see Ty or the camp anymore. My teeth nibble on the inside of my cheek as I glance around me. The sound of twigs snapping catches me off guard. I grasp the handle of my dagger and search the tall pines for where the noise came from. Suddenly, the noise changes positions, coming from behind me now. I spin around with the dagger clutched in my hand. Ready to stab, I come face to face with Travis.

  “Whoa! Calm down there, Freddy.” Travis laughs, pushing my arm down. Behind him, Billy stares off expressionless - still wearing his fat backpack.

  My eyes zoned in on him, I ask, “Where did you go?”

  “I could hear someone on the radio but it wasn’t a good signal. So I was moving around to try to get a better connection.” Billy responds, readjusting the brown straps on his shoulders.

  I shake my head and look over to where Travis stands beside me. His dimples sink into his cheeks as he flashes a perfect smile. He doesn’t have to say anything, I know when he’s teasing me silently.

  I nudge him playfully and laugh, “Shut up.”

  “Mom!” Ty’s scream echoes through the gorge.

  Without an ounce of hesitation, Travis and I sprint side by side back to camp. Cano is already ahead of us by ten feet and gaining more speed by the second. I lose sight of him when he leaps into the clearing, where the wind has blown smoke from our fire all around. His ferocious bark echoes through the gorge, making me worry about what we’re going to find when we reach him.

  We break through the cloud of smoke and find him standing still. His muscular body is tense like he’s preparing to attack. Baring his sharp white teeth, he growls viciously at something on the other side of me.

  “Mom,” Ty’s voice cries out unsteadily.

  I follow his line of vision, until I find Ty a few feet away. His blue eyes are wide and full of fear. He remains frozen as tears stream down his cheeks, past his trembling bottom lip.

  Staring at my scared child, my hands begin to shake from the anger that’s building up inside of me. Behind Ty is a group of people staring back at me. And almost all of them are pointing weapons right at us.