Akasha 4 - Earth Page 3

  Chapter 6

  Pocahontas

  "One, two, three, and push!"

  The back wheels were stuck in the mud yet again. That Alex had been able to find them at all was amazing, but one was beginning to go flat, and we had a little over half a mile until the river. Or 'a click and a half' as Alex put it.

  "One more time. One, two, three, push!" Alex repeated. Susan and I pushed while he pulled, and the tire popped free of the mud.

  "Explain to me again how you were able to find the tires, but no vehicle to drive us to Utah?" Susan asked, picking up a can of green beans that had toppled out of the canoe. Bee continued to nap in the middle on top a pile of blankets. That girl could sleep through anything.

  "Because, all the cars were blown up. Whoever attacked the compound probably hit the garage first. These were the only tires sitting around that weren't actually on fire." Alex swatted at a mosquito on his arm. His tone with Susan was short and clipped.

  We were all tired. After the high of discovering the loot, I had explained my brief stint in U.S. politics. Alex went into the bunker to find some way to transport the canoe to the river, while Susan and I loaded up. We had emptied the shelves entirely. I just hoped the canoe would still float with all this weight.

  "Did you find any weapons, or ammunition?" Alex asked.

  "No," I said. A pistol hung at each of our hips. They had been empty of bullets for months now, but still proved to be a valuable deterrent. Travelers thought twice about going after our supplies when we looked armed.

  Alex's shoulders sagged.

  "Are we there yet?" Susan whined.

  Alex's shoulders sagged even further. The past year and a half couldn't have been easy on him, trudging from state to state, dragging along two women and a baby.

  "Where do you suppose the president was headed?" I asked, trying to keep Susan's mind occupied with something other than her sore feet.

  She shrugged. "Probably another bunker. Someplace with running water and air conditioning."

  "Maybe even back to D.C. While we were there, plenty of people mentioned how much better the capital has become compared to right after the EMP. Much more tame," Alex said.

  His version and my version of tame differed greatly. There was still rioting when we went through, and almost the entire Southeast section was on fire. There was no sign of Micah in all that mess.

  "I should've followed the President," I mumbled. "He probably has a boat – with a motor and gas."

  I suppose I should just be thankful for the pair of oars inside the canoe.

  A half an hour later, Susan's head jerked up, eyes going wide and face cracking into a smile. "The river is close."

  Several minutes later, I heard it. We rolled the canoe to a stop alongside the shore. It wasn't very large, but seemed tame enough. We would still need to find a life jacket for Bee.

  "Are we sure this is the Greenbrier River?" I asked. It was a convoluted route on West Virginia's river system, even before we reached the Ohio. There were plenty of tributaries leading in or flowing out along the way. Keeping on the right path would be tricky. It wasn't like there were road signs posted.

  Alex consulted one of the many maps he acquired. "Pretty sure." He nodded twice, as if to reassure himself, then folded the map.

  "Well." Susan rubbed her hands together. "Let's shove off, shall we?"

  I laughed. Her mood always improved when close to water.

  "Hold on Pocahontas," Alex said. "We need to make some modifications to the boat first."

  "Modifications? What modifications?" I frowned. The more we stalled, the less likely we were to make it a ways down river before Bee woke up.

  A rustling from the boat caused us all to turn our heads.

  Too late, I groaned to myself.

  Bee was rooting around in the pile of supplies. She came up with graham crackers.

  "Tootie!" she exclaimed proudly.

  "Okay. Modifications for Alex – cookies for us."

  After two hours of watching Alex work, and trying to keep track of Bee while she searched for more honeysuckle, we were finally ready to go.

  I threw a full bag of the white petal flowers into the canoe and hopped in next to Bee as Alex pushed us off.

  "She can sniff those out like a pro," Alex said.

  "She knows what's important," I said, putting her on my lap. There was just enough room for my legs, which was far better than before. "Where did all the batteries go?"

  "Hidden under the seats," he said, steering us away from the banks.

  My heel hit wood underneath the bench.

  "Hopefully it'll appear to just be part of the canoe. If we can hold onto them long enough, we might be able to trade our way into anything we need."

  After Daybreak, batteries became the new currency. It was sometime during our last leg in Tennessee when seeing people tend their makeshift car greenhouses while listening to their iPods no longer seemed unusual.

  "Picking up anything?" Alex asked Susan.

  She was at the front of the canoe, with her hand in the water. "A lot of disturbance upriver."

  "Could it be whatever tore apart the underground bunker?" I asked.

  "Maybe. It’s powerful." She paused, skimming her fingers along the top of the calm river. "But nothing downstream so far as I can tell."

  "Micah doing his part?" My question was rhetorical.

  "Well, let's just get through this while the coast is clear, and hopefully whatever is behind us doesn't catch up," Alex said, rowing hard with his oar. "Kaitlyn, I could use a little manpower here."

  I nodded, closing my eyes, tuning into the frequency of the air. A little downwind wouldn't hurt.

  "Nope," he interrupted by tapping a wooden handle on my shoulder.

  I took the other oar and frowned.

  "He's right," Susan said, turning around. "We don't want to attract any unwanted attention. Only physical energy from here on out, unless it is an emergency."

  I grumbled, angling my oar toward the water. I had literally never rowed a boat before. "I don't see you with a paddle."

  Susan smiled, turning back to the water. "I'm the navigator."

  Alex snickered. I looked back at him; his oar dragged in the water.

  "What?" he said. "I'm steering."

  The canoe jolted forward, and a small boulder hidden just under the river's surface scraped against the entire length of the boat.

  "I just thought of a good name for our new ride," I said as I plunged my oar into the water and pulled back. "The Titanic."

  Chapter 7

  Dropping Anchor

  Susan and Alex had their communication skills down to a science, and all potential icebergs were avoided. Around midday, Alex and I stopped banging our oars and settled into a coordinated pattern worthy of any high school row team. Bee took several naps, lulled to sleep by the rocking boat.

  We pulled over to the side of the river by nightfall. Alex created an anchor by tying a dozen D batteries together with 550 cord. Extra blankets underneath and over me made for a more comfortable bed than I had in a long time. If every day went like this, I would be a happy camper. I kept my eyes peeled open as long as I could. It had become my evening ritual; less sleep meant fewer nightmares. But I was no match for the gentle rocking of the canoe on water, or Bee's comforting warmth.

  * * *

  "Easy there, princess." Shawn's words echoed through my head. His blue eyes floated in front of me. Fire surrounded us like a ring, blocking off any hopes of retreat. I could still hear Bee snoring in my ear. This was a dream. No – a nightmare. One I had already seen through to the end. But here I was again because there was some unresolved business.

  I looked around; there was no one else.

  Shawn held his Athame up, pointed at my neck. Something danced at my back, taunting me. But the knife held my attention.

  "Where's the baby?" he asked.

  I flinched, and the thing behind me flickered like a strobe light.

&
nbsp; "Kaitlyn." My name on his lips, my real name, sounded foreign. "The baby is mine."

  The light behind me started to rise. I knew I could stop it if I wanted. There would be consequences if I did, there would be consequences if I didn't. What outcome would be worse?

  My insides shook with anxiety. I had to make a decision fast. I focused on the tip of the knife. Behind it, Shawn's lip curled up in a smile. "It's already too late."

  Blood dripped down the flames surrounding us, turning them more red than orange.

  "Now!" the scream came from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. I had to make the decision.

  * * *

  My eyes flew open, heart pounding from the nightmare. I blinked, calming my body, as the morning sun peeked out above the trees. My arm was numb from Bee's large head laying on it all night. I was sore and stiff from a day of rowing, and I was covered in bug bites. If every morning started like this, I was not going to be a happy camper.

  "Alugh," I mumbled. No one in the boat stirred. I cleared my throat and licked my cracked lips. "Alex!"

  "Huh?" a sleepy voice sounded out from the back of the canoe.

  "Are the water bottles back there?" I looked up just in time to see one being lobbed in my general direction. It landed on the bench. "You could've hit Bee."

  "Mommy?" Bee asked, stretching her limbs in the small space she had. I sipped water, watching her run through the usual morning routine. A frown while her eyes searched new surroundings; rarely would she wake up in the same location two days in a row. Then reaching out with her hand, feeling for a reassuring warm body. Finally she would turn her face up to the sky. Even if the trees weren't what she remembered before going to sleep, the sky would always be there, hovering over her. She really didn't do well indoors any longer.

  Next would be her first word of the day. Generally, it would be a word repeated throughout the morning ad nauseum. This morning's word was, "Itchy."

  I leaned over, peering at her face a little closer. Bug bites covered her, too. One was still feasting at her hairline.

  "Get away you bastard." I swatted at the mosquito.

  Bee smiled. "Bashterd."

  Why is it always the bad words they pick up?

  Behind us, Alex moaned and sat up.

  "It was a fine spot you chose to pull over," I told him.

  "Bashterd!" Bee chimed in.

  Alex looked at me. "And you are a fine source of vocabulary, Katie."

  I rolled my eyes. "We need to find some netting. I got eaten alive last night, as did you."

  Alex peered over the boat at his own reflection in the water. "I can't see anything in this muck."

  "Susan awake yet?" I asked.

  "Susan." Alex shook a lump next to him. "Susan."

  The lump stirred. "Five more minutes."

  "Nope – up and at 'em. You're rowing today."

  That got her moving. "What? But I'm…freaking Pocahontas! The navigator – remember?"

  "Yeah but another day of this and I won't be able to move my arms. At all," I said, rolling out my shoulders.

  Alex nodded. "Me too. We switch every day. Besides, we all need to learn how to steer the canoe. Your turn to learn, Susan. Katie’s up front."

  "Fine," Susan said, sitting up and pulling back her hair.

  I gasped. "Susan – your face!"

  "What?" She ran a panicked hand over her smooth skin.

  "It's…it's…perfect."

  "Huh?"

  "You have no bites."

  Susan peered at me and Bee, then looked at Alex. "You guys look terrible."

  "Bashterd," said Bee.

  Susan glared at me.

  Alex sighed, "Come on, ladies. We need to find a mosquito net today."

  After a small breakfast of canned peaches and beans, we lifted anchor – or battery – and began rowing. That day we reached the tip of Bluestone Lake, then made our way up New River. Paddling upstream, I was thankful that it wasn't me with an oar.

  An hour passed on New River when I felt a trickle of energy behind me. I turned and glared at Susan. "I thought you said no magic."

  Her shirt was drenched in sweat. "Believe me, I'd be the first to do it if I thought it was safe."

  "If it isn't you, who is it?" I looked behind the canoe, toward Bluestone Lake. "Do you think someone is following us?"

  "I don't feel anything," said Susan.

  I furrowed my eyebrows, glancing down at Bee. She hadn't had an incident since her fire at the Chakra. Granted, we were very careful not to get her too excited, since that was how the fireball had appeared. At the moment, she sat with her back to me, decorating her leg with the Band-Aids out of one of several first aid kits. She wasn't excited, or anxious, or mad – none of the tell-tale emotions that sent my powers out of whack.

  I turned back to the water, guiding Alex through a tame set of rapids. By the time we were through, the energy was gone.

  I'll have to pay more attention to Bee.

  Further upriver, homemade filtering systems dotted the bank on one side.

  "Should we check it out?" I asked Alex.

  He eyed them. "Those only filter enough water for ten people or so, and that's if they don't use it for growing food."

  "We can handle that…" I said. Approaching people was always tricky. Though most were helpful, we had run into our fair share of undesirables.

  Alex guided us over to the shore. Instead of dropping anchor, he tied us off to a tree.

  "Susan, stay here with Bee."

  "Gladly," she grumbled, stretching out her arms.

  Alex handed her a knife. "If you hear our whistle, just cut the rope and get upstream as fast as you can. They'll expect us to go down."

  Alex bagged a few different types of batteries and first aid items for trading. The canned food wouldn't go far, by now people had learned to grow for themselves. Those who hadn't were already dead.

  Bee was napping again.

  I threw a light blanket over her. "Keep her covered."

  Susan settled down next to her, yawning. "We'll be fine. Take your time."

  Alex and I disappeared into the woods, walking quietly, listening for others. Before long we heard the ominous sound of barking. Alex and I looked at each other, eyebrows raised. We would've liked to observe the camp before our presence became known.

  I turned and let out a shrill whistle in the direction of Susan and Bee. Alex transferred his hunting knife to inside his boot and threw the sheath in the bushes just before the dog came crashing through, with the owners right behind him.

  Chapter 8

  The Captives

  "Hands up. Turn around, slowly."

  Alex and I obeyed, following the same protocol we might have ordered if strangers walked into our camp.

  "Have any weapons on you?" All three men wore dirty overalls, no t-shirt underneath. The question was directed at Alex.

  "None," Alex answered evenly.

  "Search them."

  The two that had yet to speak stepped forward, and patted us down. They didn't check Alex's boots. They never check the boots.

  The first man didn't lower his guard. "How did you get here?"

  "Came from upriver, and we saw your water filtration. We’re hoping to trade a few things."

  The man eyed Alex. He was older, maybe early fifties, but he was well built. Taller than all of us, with wide shoulders. Two fingers were missing on his right hand, the stumps smooth and healed over, which meant it probably happened before Daybreak.

  He turned to one of the men who had the same nose and the same sandy blonde hair. "Check it out."

  I stepped toward the retreating man as he headed in the direction we came, toward Susan and Bee.

  "Stop," the farmer commanded, reaching behind his back and producing a bow and arrow. He nocked it and took aim.

  Alex stepped in front of me.

  The farmer's bow and arrow wavered, then lowered. "We have to be careful, you understand."

  I moved back to where
I had been, hoping Susan had heard my whistle, and wouldn't be caught napping away. No matter what kind of men these were, if they saw our stockpile it was unlikely we'd be leaving with all of it.

  The tension deflated, and Alex and I lowered our arms.

  "What do you have to trade?" the farmer asked.

  Alex gestured to our bags. "First aid supplies and batteries."

  The farmer didn't even glance at the bag. "Got any food?"

  Alex and I both looked at each other, confused.

  "You don't need any food," Alex said.

  The farmer's mouth tipped up in a half-smile, but before he could respond, his son came crashing back through. "No sign of more – and no boats." His chest heaved, out of breath.

  The farmer raised his eyebrow at Alex.

  "You understand," Alex said, "we have to be careful."

  "Who was it you whistled to, just before we came?"

  I rolled my eyes. Let's get on with it, people.

  I moved out from behind Alex and spoke for the first time, "Something we need to protect – much as I believe you are doing. Now – are you interested in trading or not?"

  The farmer snorted, that half-smile lighting up his face again. He rubbed the back of his neck, and looked at the two men behind him. "Well, come on then. Let me show you what we got."

  We followed the three men deeper into the forest. Alex's knife still hidden in his boot, and my magic, were our only weapons. After pushing aside an insanely thick amount of foliage, we stepped into a clearing. There were five tents, some reinforced by sheet metal on one side, some with duct tape patched holes. Several gardens grew behind the tents, and behind that was the thicker forest again. The entire clearing wasn't more than 50 paces across.

  As they led us closer toward the tents, women emerged. Ten in all; half had small children clinging to their legs. They wore clothes made of the thicker jean material. Cotton t-shirts didn't last very long in these conditions.